Tumultuous
by awkwardambition
Summary: AU. Kurt is excited to see Blaine Anderson opening for Sebastian Smythe's tour Ensnared. What happens when he wins a meet and greet with both boys?
1. 1: The Liveliness of a Button

Chapter One

The Liveliness of a Button

_ "An ever expanding fan base: check. A bank account loaded with a quarter of a billion dollars (and still growing): check. Houses in New York, Ohio, and Los Angeles: check, check, check. Good looks: definite check._

_ "Sebastian Smythe has everything a guy could ever want. Fame, fortune, looks that could make Robert Downey Jr. weep..."_

Kurt Hummel rolled his eyes as Rachel Berry, Mercedes Jones, Tina Cohen-Chang, Sugar Motta, and Quinn Fabray watched the usual E! Segment on the ever obnoxious internet-sensation-turned-pop-star Sebastian Smythe. They were incredibly fascinated by the boy, but Kurt found him as insipid as a box of flavorless low-cholesterol Cheerios. What was so special about yet another talentless YouTube star forcing their way into Hollywood for their brief fifteen minutes?

_"'I love my fans,' Sebastian said at the premiere of _So Cal_ on Thursday. 'I don't know what I'd honestly still be doing without their support. That's why I'm doing this tour; to thank my supporters for everything they've done for me just by voting for me and watching my videos. I will be forever grateful for them.'_

_ "Sebastian Smythe's second concert tour, entitled 'Ensnared', kicks off in Los Angeles on May 26th. Tickets go on sale for all tour dates on April 15th at 5 P.M. local time."_

Rachel tore her gaze away from the TV screen quickly enough to narrow her eyes at Kurt. He'd been making indifferent noises throughout the entire segment, as if he didn't care that someone who keeps in close contact with Kristin Chenoweth was on the TV.

Kurt was spreading almond butter on some slices of red apple when he looked up. Realizing that he'd caught the attention of most of the girls now that the segment was over, he finished his snack warily and walked over to sit beside Sugar.

"I'm going to call my daddy," Sugar announced to Mercedes. "I want tickets, I want front row, and I want _him_."

"The tickets go on sale tomorrow," Quinn gushed to Tina. "Hopefully I can get us some good seats. I want to be able to see his face without having to use the zoom button on my camera."

"Yeah, it'll be fun to have some girl time," Tina shared, nudging the former cheerleader with her elbow. They'd grown so comfortable with each other now that Tina couldn't even remember the times when Quinn had blatantly ignored her at school.

"What about you, Kurt?" Rachel asked over the conversations. She propped her feet up onto the coffee table and inquired, "Are you going to get tickets?"

Kurt shrugged, biting into an apple slice. "Why do you girls even like him? He's really not that different from any other male singer on YouTube."

"He's dreamy," said Sugar, a smile playing on her MAC-reddened lips. "Sex on a stick."

"Does he even like girls?" inquired Mercedes. "They didn't say."

"He's straight," Rachel insisted. "He better be, I mean. I already gave up hope on that Blaine Anderson guy when he decided to come out."

"He came out on national television, too," Quinn said, straightening her back slightly. "He's so brave."

At the mere mention of Blaine Anderson, Kurt nearly dropped the apple.

Blaine Anderson was not a YouTube sensation. He did not make videos that started and ended with winks. He did not comment back to his fans with sexual implications that could prompt a sexual harassment charge if said in person. He was not every girl's definition of "dreamboat", but he certainly was Kurt's.

Blaine was Cooper Anderson's younger brother. They'd started off as minor characters in an episode of _Doctor Who_ during Christopher Eccleston's revival series. Blaine's character was greatly liked by the viewers, so he was invited back to help David Tennant in an episode in _his_ series. From then on, he began some small acting stints until he landed a big role in the blockbuster _Pandemonium_. He'd won a few MTV Movie Awards (which, Kurt knew, didn't mean that much) and had succeeded when he was nominated for several categories at the Teen Choice Awards.

Then he revealed on Ellen his love of singing. Right on the talk show, in front of the woman herself, he performed a stunning rendition of Katy Perry's "Teenage Dream". After an album and countless tracks hitting number one, Blaine Anderson had reached just as much substantial stardom as Sebastian's. However, his had been earned through hard work and determination, whereas Smythe's was made up of superficial winks and somewhat terrible covers of Maroon 5.

From the day he'd sung on Ellen, Blaine was Kurt's crush. Finn, being his stepbrother, was no longer an object of his desires.

What was it that was so entrancing about Blaine Anderson? Was it his charmingly styled hair? His isosceles eyebrows? His ability to look scruffy and thirty one day, but become outwardly seventeen (his real age) and charming the next? His singing voice, which never wavered or cracked?

"Kurt."

Kurt licked the almond butter off of the apple slice. "What?" he asked, sounding a bit irritated.

Rachel pointed to the TV screen, an expression of awe on her long face.

It was the commercial he'd seen since April began: the _Ensnared_ tour commercial, promoting the hell out of Sebastian freakin' Smythe. There were so many shots of his face, and not enough music playing. If Kurt hadn't known that _Ensnared _was a concert tour, he would have guessed that it was some modelling agency.

But at the end of the commercial, a clip of Blaine Anderson was shown. The white text at the bottom stated: BLAINE ANDERSON WILL OPEN ON THE FOLLOWING TOUR DATES.

Kurt pulled out his iPhone and prepared a note in record timing. When it listed the tour dates, Kurt snapped a photo and typed out what he could before the commercial ended. He was completely frantic.

Blaine Anderson was going to open for Sebastian Smythe. If Blaine was going to the Ohio concert, Kurt would buy front row tickets just to see him. He would leave right before Smythe takes over center stage.

"I have a feeling Kurt's going with us," Quinn informed Tina.

* * *

Ten minutes.

Kurt tapped his credit card impatiently on the counter. He'd been waiting to buy a ticket to the show since three P.M. He was starting to get a bit frantic.

Nine minutes.

Soon, he'd be ordering for a decent seat to see _the_ Blaine Anderson in concert. Unfortunately, not his own, but that was a start. Sooner or later, Blaine would be headlining an entire tour with a good name (_Ensnared?_ What are they, rabbits?) and Sebastian would be the opening act - at a greasy spoon.

Eight minutes.

Burt attempted to use the computer to check his email, as Carole had taken over his to show Finn the proper use of a blender. Kurt had glared at him, which instantly made him back off.

Seven minutes.

The anticipation was eating him up inside. He tried to blast Blaine's first number one single, "Tumult", but he turned it off right away. He would listen to it after he bought a ticket.

Six minutes.

He felt as though the entire world was trying to prevent him from the concert. Finn had barged into the room and was trying to get Kurt off so he could play yet another mindless war game, and he wasn't taking any of Kurt's practiced glares as an answer.

"Come on," pleaded Finn. "You can get your ticket later. No one wants to go, anyway."

Finn, as usual, was wrong. He knew for a fact that Brittany and Santana were going to go as a date, and that prompted all of the Cheerios to beg their boyfriends for tickets. That meant that at least thirty people he knew (not counting the girls at his sleepover) were going. The venue wasn't that large to begin with, too.

Four minutes.

Finn had stomped off to Rachel's for the remainder of the day. Kurt knew that she'd be waiting around the computer for tickets too, but he daren't mention it to Finn. He didn't need his stepbrother hovering around. Besides, by the time he reached Rachel's, the tickets would already be on sale.

Kurt took a very shaky sip of lemonade and waited. He felt his left eye twitching, but he didn't care. All he cared about was the ticket that he desperately craved to possess.

Three minutes.

His Twitter timeline burst with impatient Tweets from Cheerios. Brittany was so sure that Santana and her were going to get the first and second tickets for the show, therefore earning a meet and greet.

It was a tradition for Sebastian Smythe concerts that the first ten tickets sold would include a meet and greet with the meerkat himself. It was a genius strategy to reap in ticket sales, if anything.

Two minutes.

Kurt was definitely going insane. He refreshed the page fifteen times, hoping that the BUY NOW button would be highlighted. He drained his tall glass of lemonade in three gulps and stared expectantly at the screen.

His timeline was abuzz with life. The estranged boyfriends of the cheerleaders were all complaining that they had to wait in front of a computer because their girlfriends want tickets.

Sugar, however, was the only one who Tweeted that she loved waiting for tickets. She wasn't being sarcastic either. Kurt decided that her father probably told her to wait for the tickets just like the rest of them.

One...minute...

Kurt refreshed the page again. And again. The BUY NOW button was still grey and lifeless.

He clinked the ice in his glass with a shake of his hand. He looked into the reflection on his computer screen and fixed his hair. He dared to bite one nail for a brief second. Anything he could do to kill time was being done.

Ten push-ups. With his arms throbbing, he changed positions and did ten sit-ups. Then ten jumping jacks.

After he felt like he could do no more and the minute was nearly up, Kurt leaned over and refreshed the page.

The BUY NOW button was now lit up and more alive than ever.

* * *

**A/N**: For those of you still waiting on the next chapter of Dalton Fight Club, stay tuned!


	2. 2: Not As Big As The Beatles

Chapter Two

Not As Big As The Beatles

Kurt clicked on the button as if his life depended on it. As soon as he did, he was given the generated seating in the front row, right in the center. He'd be barely two feet away from Blaine.

He filled out the necessary requirements at lightning speed and clicked CONFIRM. When he did, medium-sized pixels that were probably meant to be confetti showered over the following page.

On the following page, it stated:

_Congratulations!_

_Kurt Hummel__, you are the __first__ ticket holder at the __Ohio__ concert date for __Sebastian Smythe's _Ensnared_ on __June 15th__! As a means of congratulating you, you will receive a VIP pass for a meet and greet with __Sebastian Smythe__!_

_Your VIP pass will come to you by mail approximately two weeks before your concert date. The pass is non-transferrable, in your name only, and cannot be redeemed for monetary value._

Kurt stared at the screen. From the blank lines in the statement, it was obviously a barely edited, automatically filled-in template. But how had he been first?

He clicked CONFIRM again and his tickets were officially confirmed. So was his VIP pass, Kurt duly noted, at the bottom of the printable receipt.

After he'd closed the tab, he noticed that many girls on his Facebook were posting devastated statuses. Apparently the concert was more popular than many thought. Since Ohio was Sebastian's birthplace and his home up until he left for L.A. two years ago, he had friends and family buying up the tickets too.

But Kurt didn't care about Sebastian. He barely cared that nobody that he knew was also a VIP pass carrier.

He was going to see Blaine Anderson in concert.

That was all that mattered now.

* * *

Sebastian Smythe eyed his adversary from where he stood. Blaine Anderson was rehearsing for his opening act by standing rigidly on center stage. Sebastian wanted to roundhouse kick him for looking as stiff as a board.

He didn't want Blaine on his tour. Hell, _Sebastian _didn't want to be on this tour. But since Blaine also hailed from Ohio, the agency decided that it would be best if they toured together. Maybe they'd even become friends. Or, at least, look like they're friends. That would bring a lot of media attention.

"Do you like girls or not, Sebastian?" his manager, Pierce, had asked him the night before. "If not, then we can hook you up with that Anderson guy. That would get the paparazzi going for at least a few weeks. The publicity you'd get would be astounding."

Since Sebastian refused to disclose his sexuality for the media attention, he'd been shunned by Pierce. Now he watched from backstage as Blaine sang "Tumult" and "One Rose" to a nonexistent crowd. From far away, it looked like he was nervous. He wrung his hands, as anxious as the boy standing center stage.

* * *

Blaine adjusted his bow tie and hit the final note in "One Rose". He'd written the song for a boy he knew in Ohio, one that he had gone to a school dance with. They weren't in love, but he used the experience to write a love song anyways. He hoped that one day he could sing it to somebody who really mattered to him. But for now, he'd have to sing it to rows of empty seats.

He could sense Sebastian watching him. He didn't even need to turn around to know that his eyes would be trained on Blaine's back, judging him from the way he stood to the way he held the microphone.

_If only Cooper were here_, Blaine thought longingly. His triumphant and egotistical older brother knew his way around and how to deal with anything. He was notorious for not taking "no" for an answer.

But alas, Cooper was still doing some acting stints, whereas Blaine had left those in the dust in favor of his singing career. Cooper was somewhere between Canada and Washington for his arc on _Fringe _by now. He could always call him, but there would really be nothing to report, so what was the point of wasting his brother's time?

Blaine took a deep breath as the familiar intro to "Teenage Dream" played. He would be singing three original songs and two covers during this tour, but he had planned for more in case anyone had the audacity to demand for an encore. If only Blaine's agency had let him go on his own tour, instead of simply opening for Sebastian...

Not that anybody was actually going to the shows specifically for him. Blaine had been in Hollywood's spotlight for all of six minutes before Sebastian hip-checked him into the shadows.

_I should have stayed in movies_, Blaine thought bitterly. _Then I wouldn't have to be on this stupid tour._

Blaine shook the thoughts out of his head and began to sing.

* * *

"I can't believe _you_, of all people, get to go to the special meet and greet." Mercedes was blatantly envious of her friend.

Kurt shrugged, indifferent. "I'm not actually going, 'Cedes. It's just Sebastian Smythe."

Mercedes - and a few girls who happened to overhear this conversation - gaped at him. "_Just _Sebastian Smythe?" She grabbed him by the shoulders and gave him a shake. "Who _are_ you?"

"Kurt Elizabeth Hummel," he retorted. "And if you want to go to the meet and greet so badly, just go in my place. It's not like I care or mind."

"But you said that the statement clarified that it was in your name only. I am no Kurt Hummel, okay? I can't pretend to be you." Mercedes looked like she would've tried to, but she knew that she would be unsuccessful.

Kurt spritzed some Tigi hairspray into his carefully styled 'do. "What am I supposed to do with this pass then? It's non-transferable."

"Use it." Mercedes smiled widely. "If I can't use it, then you use it. Even if you don't like him, his autograph sells for a lot. And it'll be an experience you'll never forget."

"I guess you're right," Kurt said, sighing in defeat. "Hey, maybe Blaine is also part of the deal at this meet and greet." Suddenly he was more excited than ever to get the pass.

"Then you can introduce yourself!" suggested Mercedes. "Who knows what'll happen from there. Maybe your daydream of dating Blaine will come true because of this."

Kurt blushed. "Shut up."

Mercedes laughed. On the inside, she wondered about the possibility of Kurt actually getting together with Blaine. Her best friend needed this, especially after what had happened with Dave Karofsky.

It was a touchy subject, but it was one that had to be explained. Dave had bullied Kurt relentlessly for being openly gay in such a homophobic community. But when Kurt finally got the courage to stand up to Dave, he'd forced himself on Kurt. He'd defiled Mercedes' best friend. He took his first real kiss away from him.

Dave was expelled by Sue Sylvester (temporary principal at the time) for threatening to kill Kurt. Kurt's relief was brief; he later returned when Principal Figgins came back.

Thankfully, the jock was now avoiding him. But it didn't mean that Kurt felt any more comfortable in the hallways. Just being in the locker room for a few seconds made him shiver.

"You'd better go," Mercedes said finally. "Who know what will happen?"

* * *

Pierce cracked his knuckles. "Do you know why I've called you both in here?"

Sebastian and Blaine, adversaries in matching T-shirts, shook their heads. After they'd gone through the sound check, one of Pierce's lackeys had all but assaulted Sebastian to get him into the cramped up closet. Blaine and Pierce were already in there, waiting impatiently for him.

"It's nothing bad," he assured them, after seeing the look of pure anguish on Blaine's face. "I just wanted to - calmly - inform you that the tour is officially sold out on all tour dates."

It took a minute for it to hit Sebastian. The impact of Pierce's news was so jarring that Sebastian steadied himself against the wall with one hand.

"What?" Blaine asked breathlessly. He hadn't expected to be performing in front of full venues. He was barely comfortable singing to the audience at Ellen. Recording for his albums were difficult processes.

"I told you that going on a joint tour would make you stacks." Pierce laughed, clapping his hands together briefly. "What did I say, man? It's the first day of ticket sales, and we're completely sold out!"

"Wow," Sebastian forced out. He felt as though a bull had charged right into his stomach. "That's...something."

"Something?" Pierce frowned. "This is incredible. Never has a concert sold out like this - ever!"

Blaine started lightly, "I'm pretty sure the Beatles or the Rolling Stones-"

"But you guys are not the Beatles," Pierce interrupted. "You guys will be bigger than the Beatles."

Sebastian snorted.

"Okay, maybe not as big as the Beatles," amended the ecstatic manager. "But you're something that the public desperately wants, so you'll give them what they want."

Blaine laughed. "I'm going to call Cooper. He's going to be so happy for me." He pulled out his cell phone and began dialing. "Coop? Hey, it's me."

As Blaine turned his back to the other two in the closet, Sebastian frantically whispered, "I don't know if I can do this, Pierce."

"You can, and you will," he assured him. "Just keep you and those vocal cords strong and healthy."

They opened up the closet door. Bags full of the VIP passes for each show were stacked in front of it. Each one needed to be labelled with the proper name before being sealed up into an envelope to be shipped off to the lucky winners.

"You can start by helping me with these things." Pierce smirked at Blaine and Sebastian's faces. "Grab the bags and follow me to the office."

Dejectedly, Blaine picked up as many bags as he could carry and followed after Pierce. Sebastian stayed behind, suddenly interested in the appearance of the passes. The designer had tried to match the color of the passes to his eyes. Seafoam green.

Sebastian promptly bent over a trash can and vomited.


	3. 3: Coincidence Galore

Chapter Three

Coincidence Galore

The after school Cheerios practice was uneventful. Santana and Brittany bragged about their second row seats the entire time while the rest of the cheerleaders complained about their third, fourth, fifth, or sixth row seats.

"I told him to get them at exactly five. What does he do? Buys them right at five oh nine. Too late to get any decent seats." Susie shook her head. "What about you, Kurt? Did you get a ticket?"

"Yes, I did. Front row center." Kurt smiled softly as he imagined himself staring up at Blaine. He'd finally get to see those hazel eyes in person. Possibly even at the meet and greet.

Mercedes slung an arm over Kurt's shoulder. "He was the first ticket buyer. You know what that means, ladies."

Susie and Jane gaped at him. The other Cheerios overheard and quickly jogged over to him.

"You get to meet Sebastian Smythe?" Jane said jealously.

"Yeah," Kurt replied, not as elated as he was before.

Mercedes added, "He'll probably meet Blaine Anderson, too."

Brittany smiled. "Is he that guy you have in your locker? The one with the black Doritos for eyebrows?"

"Yes," Kurt said tersely. He didn't like being surrounded by the girls unless they were complimenting him on his kicks or his singing voice. Talking about Sebastian Smythe was making him slightly queasy. Or maybe it was the Auntie Amy's cookie he'd shared with the Unholy Trinity at the mall during lunch. He should not have gotten his fourth of the cookie with frosting.

"Tina and I are going," Quinn said happily, adjusting her skirt. "I'm sure that we can hang out before and after the show, Kurt. You can tell us what happens at the meet and greet. Are you going, 'Cedes?"

"Yeah," Mercedes said, smiling. "I bought tickets for Sam and me."

"Ooh, sounds like you guys are getting pretty serious." Susie laughed.

Kurt sighed in relief when the topic switched to Sam and Mercedes' relationship.

* * *

His relief didn't last for long. He was just about to exit McKinley High when he was promptly grabbed from behind and pulled back inside. Kurt dropped his bag on the ground and turned around, mentally preparing himself for a fight.

Dave Karofsky looked back at him, his expression unreadable.

"What do _you_ want?" Kurt asked angrily. His hands curled into fists.

"I need to apologize to you," his assailant responded.

Kurt didn't drop his fists. "Then do it."

Dave sighed, letting go of Kurt. He took a step back and straightened up. Just the sight of his foe attempting to clam himself made Kurt want to attack. Yet he remained firmly planted on the spot, still guarded.

"I'm sorry," Karofsky suddenly cried, "for everything that I did. Shoving you into lockers, throwing grape slushies in your face, tossing you into dumpsters..."

As he listed the offenses he'd made, Kurt felt his armor cracking. He dropped his fists and watched the expression on Karofsky's face change from apologetic to absolutely pained.

Finally, he croaked, "I'm sorry for kissing you."

Then the football player began to cry. Kurt hesitantly reached forward and patted his shoulder. The mere act of comforting him seemed to work.

"You're a good man, Kurt Hummel," Dave whispered.

For the first time in his life, Kurt attempted to smile at him. "You're on your way there."

"I am," confirmed Dave. "I'm...I'm transferring schools. A fresh start would be best right now."

"It really would." Kurt nodded.

* * *

Blaine finished off his cover of "Cough Syrup" and smiled at Pierce and Sebastian. They were sitting in the front row, scrawling the names of the VIP pass holders with Sharpies. The three of them had begun the job the day before, but Pierce wanted Blaine to rehearse more. The manager had guessed that Blaine wasn't yet primed for a full house performance, and was planning on gradually adding audience members during his rehearsals to get him comfortable.

"Can I help?" Blaine asked.

"Grab a Sharpie and a tour date." Sebastian held up a stack of VIP pass holders names, printed neatly on tiny white squares with the tour date in bold capital letters at the top. They were paper clipped together so that none of the dates could be lost.

Blaine glanced at the first square on the top. "Ohio," he muttered, searching for the bag marked especially for Ohio pass holders. When he did find it, he pulled out all of the passes onto the arm of his chair. He pulled out the first pass and glanced at the last name on the list.

"Apply this spray on the writing afterward," Pierce advised Blaine, shaking an aerosol can in his face. "That way it doesn't come off."

"Why wasn't this done beforehand?" grumbled Sebastian as he attempted to cram STEPHANIE BIRKBY on the white portion of New York's seafoam pass.

"We can't afford to fix any manufacturer's error," Pierce replied. "Well, at least, I thought we wouldn't when I ordered these."

Blaine scrawled CHANDLER CAMBRIDGE on an Ohio pass and sprayed it. The words looked as glossy as his hair gel. After a minute of waiting for it to set, he shoved the pass into the correct bag and began to write on another.

He was nearly finished the Ohio passes when Pierce shoved his laptop under Blaine's nose. "You have to see this," Pierce urged.

The photos on the screen depicted the big ticket selling websites. On Ticketmaster, in big red letters over the _Ensnared_ tour link, it said SOLD OUT. Screenshots of eBay and Craigslist depicted tickets that were originally fifty dollars were now going for two hundred dollars. Then, an article on a website talking about how quickly the tickets had sold out. Blaine's heart soared.

Sebastian edged closer to Blaine to see the screen.

"Holy-" Sebastian started.

"I know," Pierce said in a hushed tone. "Isn't it amazing? We've got scalpers asking for quadruple the amount they paid for."

"Completely overwhelming," Sebastian murmured.

* * *

"I can't believe he had the nerve to grab you," Santana said, shaking her head. "I would've gone all Lima Heights on him in an instant."

Brittany, Quinn, Kurt, Santana, Mercedes, and Tina were hanging out at the Lima Freeze. Sugar and her flavor of the week, Todd, were sitting in the booth right behind them so that she could join in on the conversation whenever she wanted. Rachel was on a date with Finn.

They were all sharing small amounts of ice cream in sundae dishes. They passed them around like they would with popcorn on movie nights. The girls didn't care for calorie counting that day, although he did notice that Tina and Quinn were eating sparingly than usual.

After making a mental note to bring it up to them later, Kurt took a dainty spoonful of peanut butter ice cream from the dish that had been placed in front of him. As he did, the door to the Lima Freeze opened. A blonde boy in a private school sauntered up to the front and ordered a turtle sundae. His glasses were stylishly dorky. To top it all off, Kurt detected the boy humming "Music of the Night" while he waited for his ice cream.

Santana followed Kurt's line of vision to the boy.

"Wanky," Santana stated, smirking. "Go over there and talk to him."

Kurt's cheeks turned bright red. "I can't," he whispered.

"I will shove you up there myself," Quinn said, who took a big scoop of ice cream to thwart Kurt's mental note. "He's cute, Kurt."

Todd recognize the boy almost immediately. He piped up, "His name's Chandler. He's my cousin, and he's as straight as a rainbow."

"Go, then," Tina urged. "You're obviously attracted to him. Maybe he'll be attracted to you, too. Take a chance, Kurt."

Kurt pushed himself out of the booth and headed to the front. When he approached the boy, he smiled warmly and introduced himself.

* * *

KURT HUMMEL, Blaine wrote on the last Ohio pass. Instead of the usual seafoam green, it was a dark navy pass. Every pass holder who had been the first to buy tickets for their show had a different color than the rest. New York's first ticket buyer was getting a lovely sunshine yellow pass in contrast.

After spraying the name, he dropped it into the bag and tied up the top. He was taking too long. Pierce and Sebastian were on their fifth bags, respectively.

"Take five, Anderson," Pierce called out. "Then run through 'Tumult' again."

Blaine stepped outside for some fresh air. As he walked, he found himself humming. By the time he'd crossed the street, he was singing under his breath. His favorite song in the world, "Teenage Dream".

He'd been spotted. Several women were craning their necks from outdoor patios at restaurants, trying to hear him sing a Capella. He sang a little louder, just for the observers.

He had started off singing for fun, almost an unconscious act. He was enjoying it when he'd been spotted. Then he sang louder and straightened up for the people who were watching him.

Just like what he was going to do. What he _was _doing.

Selling out.

He remembered a conversation he had with Cooper when he was younger. Before he'd been called back to reprise his role in _Doctor Who_, Cooper was booking shows left and right. Right before he'd left to be on _90210_, Cooper had kneeled next to Blaine and had given him some very valuable life advice.

"Don't die," Cooper said, chuckling slightly. "And no matter what, don't ever let go of your dreams for anything. Never sell out or skip steps to get to where you want to go. You need to earn your dreams."

Then, as if he hadn't said anything particularly interesting, Cooper straightened up and patted Blaine on the head. He didn't come back for two whole weeks, and by then Blaine had written that quote all over his duotangs that he used for school.

"You're overreacting," Blaine whispered to himself after the song was done. By then, the observers were shaking his hand and snapping photos of him on their phones. He glanced at his watch and found that he was ten minutes late. He waved good-bye to the crowd forming and sprinted back to the theater.

Or was he?


	4. 4: Wild Hearts

Chapter Four

Wild Hearts

Kurt busied himself with his studies. He was determined to be stress free by the time the concert rolled around. His father watched from the doorway as he scribbled down notes for biology.

Burt had been there for Kurt every step of the way. After Kurt's mother's death, Burt had used distractions to push away the pain. But, after a long delay, he'd come to terms of his wife's death and had grown to embrace the time he had with his son. He'd always known that Kurt was gay, and was always ready to comfort and support his son. Now that he had remarried to Carole, he'd gained another son, and that had been another blessing.

Carole had been the blessing. Finn was...something else entirely.

Not like Burt didn't like the boy. It was more like Burt got frustrated by him most often than not. His frustration started with finding Cheetos in the laundry hamper, barely five days after Finn and his mother had moved in.

Nevertheless, Burt opted to spend more time with his biological son. Kurt had expressed many times how he and his father didn't spend enough time together when he was younger, but Burt didn't know how to go about it.

He was happy to hear that Kurt was going to see Blaine Anderson in concert. Ever since he'd appeared on Ellen, Kurt had a certain fascination of him that made Burt worry. After all, the chances of them meeting were one in a million.

But then that one in a million chance came along after all, in the form of a meet and greet Kurt had won for the concert he was attending. Blaine was merely opening, and the meet and greet was supposedly for Sebastian Smythe only, but Kurt had high hopes that he would also meet his debonair celebrity crush.

Burt hoped he'd meet him, too. Never has he seen Kurt so excited before.

* * *

The days flew by. Kurt received glowing praise from his teachers because of his stellar homework assignments. They all said that they've never seen such enthusiasm portrayed by a student through their work before. Kurt was humble, but he knew that the only reason he'd been so elated was because the concert date was getting closer and closer with each breath.

June third, the day of the concert, began warm and sunny. Kurt had been incredibly skittish and could barely eat a thing. Throughout the hours at school, he was often glancing at his watch to confirm the time.

"Sheesh, Porcelain," Sue Sylvester remarked to her anxious male Cheerio during practice that day. "I never thought you could get any paler than you usually are, but I'm pretty sure you're going translucent."

Kurt didn't bother to reply. He was attempting to clear his mind of all thoughts Anderson while he held Brittany up. Luckily he didn't drop the lithe blonde during practice.

As soon as he had showered and changed, he drove home like a mad man. After greeting his family, he quickly took a granola bar and apple and headed out to the venue.

Cat's Meow was the lamest, but most efficient, venue in all of Ohio. It booked most of the biggest stars whenever they'd stop by. The last big concert Ohio had seen was Beyoncé in the Cat's Meow.

Kurt parked happily a few blocks away from the venue. As he walked towards the venue, navy VIP lanyard hanging around his neck with pride, he spotted a few other concertgoers and greeted them warmly.

"You're here to see Sebastian?" asked one girl. Her name was Eliza Goober, and she had been fourth in buying tickets. Her lanyard was a different color than Kurt's. Seafoam green, rumored to be Sebastian Smythe's true eye color, although the people who Photoshop him make them look brown.

"Actually, I'm here to see Blaine," confessed Kurt. "I'm a huge fan."

"Wow," Eliza responded. "Don't you wish that Blaine had his own tour? I feel like too many people are going because Blaine's opening for Sebastian."

"That's the only reason why I'm here," Kurt explained, "and I was the first buyer. I feel terrible."

"Don't be!" Eliza exclaimed. "At least you can say that you were there when Blaine was merely a guest. When he gets his own tour, I expect to see you the first buyer of that date, too."

Kurt felt a tap on the shoulder. He turned and smiled warmly. "Chandler!"

"I'm positively exhilarated to be here right now," Chandler gushed, staring up at the Cat's Meow theater. "Aren't you? I mean, I know you're here for Blaine Anderson instead of Sebastian, but isn't this exciting?"

"I feel jittery," Kurt remarked, wiggling his shoulders slightly. Chandler laughed and placed his arm around Kurt's shoulders.

"We're going to have a blast tonight," Chandler announced. "We're going to have a kick-ass time singing along to Sebastian and Blaine, and then we're going to kiss ass at the meet and greet."

The front doors opened, and the line of people waiting walked inside in swarms. The first merchandise table, laden down with Sebastian Smythe swag, was being mercilessly attacked by crazed fans. T-shirts, buttons, posters, CDs, wristbands, and even beauty products were being sold with the insufferable boy's face plastered all over them.

Kurt found the Blaine Anderson merchandise table. There was a fair line for that one, so he waited patiently until he was at the front. When he was second in line, he gaped at the variety of CDs, shirts, posters, buttons, and wristbands that were being sold.

"I'll take one of each," Kurt said, brandishing a wad of cash.

* * *

Blaine sucked in a deep breath. This was it. A show in his actual hometown. A place where he used to be bullied. The people who used to sit back and watch him cry now clamored at his feet for his autograph and picture. They were paying fifteen bucks in the lobby for a poster of him smiling cheesily at the camera.

He loved it. The powerful feeling that the people who kicked his ass for being openly gay were now the ones pleading for cheap general admission tickets outside of the venue. That was the comeuppance he'd been waiting for for years.

After the initial shock of performing in Los Angeles, he had forced himself to grow accustomed to the packed houses. He found himself getting more and more comfortable with performing in front of strangers, but only if the show went smoothly.

He couldn't afford to mess up anything in front of this audience. He knew that his parents were in the audience somewhere, observing what their youngest has accomplished, but that wasn't why he felt the need for perfection.

Blaine felt as though something was going to happen tonight. Something different and good.

He stood on the platform just underneath the stage, microphone in his hands. He was enveloped in total darkness. The only thing he could hear was cheering.

"Break a leg," whispered Sebastian from somewhere in the darkness. Blaine barely heard him.

On the video screen placed strategically above the stage, a clip of Blaine and Sebastian racing to get to a door marked STAGE played.

Blaine watched the clip, his heart rate beginning to speed up.

_ Sebastian jumped onto Blaine's back, clinging desperately onto Blaine's hair._

_ "Get off me," hissed Blaine, prompting some laughter in the audience._

_ Sebastian pushed himself off and past Blaine. He was just about to reach the door when Blaine had jumped on and off of a side table and landed in front of him. The crowd applauded and whistled._

_ "Too bad, Smythe," Blaine said. "It's my turn now."_

_ Sebastian sneered. "Be my guest, then."_

_ And with that, Blaine opened the door and stepped right through it._

The video screen went black, and the crowd applauded again. From somewhere behind him, Blaine heard them counting down from five.

With each word, Blaine felt smaller and smaller. The confidence he'd built up over the past few hours was disappearing before his eyes. He knew that the people in the audience were only after Sebastian. Who was he even trying to fool? It was always going to be about Sebastian.

"One."

The platform moved up, slowly revealing Blaine Anderson to the crowd. The cheering that followed the revelation was deafening.

"How are you doing tonight, Ohio?" he yelled, looking into the crowd. He saw tons of teenage girls wearing _Smythe is Sexy_ T-shirts and seafoam green jelly wristbands. He knew he should have expected that. His heart beat faster still.

But his heart nearly stopped when he opened his mouth to begin "Tumult", for he had seen a teenage _boy_ wearing a neon shirt bearing Blaine's name and signature sunglasses logo. The boy practically glowed in the dark because of his attire; a lighthouse amongst the treacherous waves.

There _was_ someone in the audience for him. His heart, which had been on the verge of exploding, warmed considerably.

All of a sudden, he felt the confidence he thought he'd lost seeping back into him. He straightened up and let the adrenaline take over him.

* * *

Holy. _Crap_.

Blaine Anderson was singing barely three feet away from Kurt. Kurt had heard him sing on Ellen, had listened to his albums, but had never expected the sound of him live to be quite like this.

He commandeered the stage as if it were his own personal property. Between songs, he'd shout out greetings to people in the pleased crowd. Kurt noticed that each person he called out to was wearing a Blaine Anderson T-shirt.

Kurt had slipped his newly bought neon yellow one over his other shirt. He figured that he should get the full experience while he was at the concert. He didn't think that it would really matter if he wore it or not, so he put it on.

It did matter a lot to the singer onstage, though. As soon as Blaine took a break to swig some water, he waved out to the audience and then spotted the neon shirt. With a smile, he did something that Kurt would never forget in his lifetime.

_The _Blaine Anderson pointed at him and yelled out, "This next song's for _you_!"

This made the audience - and Kurt's heart - go wild.

* * *

Blaine was on a roll.

He had successfully performed "Tumult" and "One Rose" flawlessly, judging by the amount of cheers and applause that followed each. He had felt so accomplished that he had searched the crowd for a fan of his and, after spying the boy in the neon T-shirt again, dedicated the next song to him. Even with piercing white lights in Blaine's face, he was sure that he could see the boy blushing from the front row.

The familiar intro to "Teenage Dream" made the crowd go insane. Blaine was still solely focused on the boy in the front row, whose eyes never left his. A strange feeling passed between the two of them. It was almost as if he could hear the boy whispering the lyrics along with him.

"You make me feel like I'm living a teenage dream the way you turn me on!" Blaine sang as he bounded around the stage.

As he sang, he tried to explored every single inch of the stage that still granted him visibility to the crowd. But somehow he always found himself standing center stage, right across from where the boy stood. Whenever he said "you", he felt compelled to point directly at him.

For some reason, Blaine felt the need to impress.

* * *

Sebastian awaited for his moment in the spotlight. He did a few vocal exercises and then took a sip of water.

"Ready on stage for you, Smythe," Pierce said directing him to the platform. "Go in five."

Sebastian heard Blaine as he bade farewell to the appreciative crowd and smirked. The preshow was finally over. Time for the _real_ show.


	5. 5: The Feeling

Chapter Five

The Feeling

The concert continued on in a very upbeat blur. Kurt could only remember some significant details that happened during Sebastian's time on the stage, because his mind was currently occupied with Blaine's time.

He had _pointed_ at Kurt. He had dedicated a _song_ to him.

If that was how he felt just being _noticed_ by him, how was Kurt going to survive the meet and greet?

When the concert was over, and Blaine _and_ Sebastian had performed a few extra songs due to demand, the entire front row was ushered to another room by a crew member. After checking their lanyards, they were left to stay in the room until Sebastian and Blaine were ready to meet them.

Eliza and Chandler were discussing Sebastian's choreography to "Mambo Man". Kurt introduced himself to the seven other winners, who didn't hesitate to remind him that Blaine had dedicated a song to him.

"Out of all of the songs, too!" gushed Sarah Bucharan. "'Teenage Dream' is known to be one of his favorites."

"You're so lucky," Loretta Fern said, pouting. "We got here late so we didn't get to buy merchandise or even a bottle of water. My throat hurts."

Her twin brother, Kevin, rolled his eyes. "I told you to have a glass of water before we went."

While Kurt watched the twins bicker, he was aware that somebody was watching _him._ Two somebodies, in fact. A white blonde boy leaned against the wall watching him with his hypnotic green eyes, while another boy with dark brown hair eyed him. Kurt shivered and tugged on the hem of his shirt.

The door opened. Sebastian Smythe walked in first, waving at the small group of people. He wasn't dressed up like he usually was in Hollywood candid shots. No popped collars or baggy jeans to be found; Sebastian was clad in a dark blue V-neck and red skinny jeans. His hair was disheveled.

Kurt had to admit, when he wasn't dressed like a grade A douchebag and his hair wasn't styled to look messy, he was actually decent looking.

Sebastian was accompanied by a few men with cameras and a crew member carrying a small stack of pictures to be signed.

"First VIP up, please," the crew member called out as she set down the stack of paper next to Sebastian.

Kurt edged forward. He was unsure of whether he should actually meet the guy, as he wasn't even attending his concert for him. Nevertheless, he plastered a smile on his face and greeted Smythe as though they were old friends.

"Nice to meet you..." Sebastian's eyes flickered to his lanyard for a brief second. "Kurt Hummel."

The cameraman asked for Kurt to stand next to Sebastian and smile. Kurt fought to keep his smile on his face as the camera flashed. An automatic copy of his photo with Sebastian printed out, and Sebastian signed it with a silver Sharpie.

Sebastian flicked the glossy face of Kurt's watch. "Nice. Where'd you get that?"

"Oh, just some store in the mall," Kurt said, shrugging. "Can't remember the specifics, really."

"Yeah, well I bet it's a great store." Sebastian smiled genuinely at him. "Here's the photos."

Accompanied with their photo was a photo of Sebastian. It was signed in the same silver, and said: HUMMEL. I'M GOING TO CALL YOU "NUMBER ONE WITH A COOL WATCH." SEBASTIAN SMYTHE

Kurt was rendered speechless. Not only had Sebastian complimented on his watch (which, now he remembered, had been from a specialty store) but he had apparently nicknamed him, too.

Not that it mattered or anything. Smythe was still sort of a douche. Sort of.

The crew member informed Kurt that he'd be receiving a benefits package in the mail, and asked him to wait until Blaine arrived. Kurt waited patiently as Chandler took his photo. His eyes kept wandering to the door, as if staring at it would make the boy he actually wanted to see appear.

Sebastian, although he was posing with Mitchell Cabo, had his eyes trained solely on Kurt. Something about him and his glasz eyes enthralled him. Perhaps it was the fact that he didn't seem too interested in him. In fact, quite the opposite.

Just then, Blaine walked in and he watched as Kurt straightened and smiled warmly in the direction of Sebastian's adversary. Blaine glanced at Kurt briefly before making a double take.

"Smile, Sebastian."

Sebastian forced a smile on his face, even while his eyes widened as they watched the interaction that unfolded before them.

* * *

"You're the guy who wore that neon yellow shirt in the front row," said Blaine gleefully. "I dedicated 'Teenage Dream' to you."

"That's what people keep telling me," Kurt remarked, a smile spreading on his face. He couldn't help that he was so happy. He was having the best - but weirdest - night ever.

A crew member set a stack of photos in Blaine's lap. Blaine stared at the pictures of himself smiling at the camera and chuckled.

"How about we take a photo together first?" Blaine asked. "I've only just met you, you know."

Kurt, blushing himself to the point of imitating a tomato, joined Blaine in front of the camera. This time, the camera was lower, which meant that they were going to be sitting on a comfy beige sofa.

"Closer," the cameraman urged, "or I'll have to cut Blaine out."

"Yes," Kurt said sarcastically. "Do just that. After all, I won this meet and greet solely because I desired for Blaine Anderson to sign a photo of _me_."

The cameraman, instead of being rude, laughed good-naturedly. "Funny, kid. Scoot together."

Blaine moved closer to Kurt until they were hip to hip. Kurt could barely breathe. His celebrity crush, who had seemed so unattainable months ago, was now brushing up against him.

Blaine slung an arm around Kurt's shoulder for an added effect. This maneuver prompted a squeak from him, which only made his face redder.

"Say cheese," the cameraman called out.

"Fromage!" the two boys yelled, smiles spreading once they realized how in sync they were.

The automatic photo was printed out. Kurt was amazed at how nicely it developed. If it weren't for the _Ensnared_ tour logo that occupied the bottom right corner of the glossy picture, it would look quite less staged. In fact, it would look like they were two best friends sitting on a sofa together. Or two boyfriends, depending on how the arm thing was interpreted.

Blaine peeked at the photo. "Not bad." He smiled impishly at Kurt, who was going red again due to the close proximity.

"You're not so bad yourself," Kurt said without thinking. His face was resembling the color of blood within no time.

Blaine laughed. "You don't beat around the bush, do you?" He smiled at the teenager before his eyes landed on the navy lanyard. "Hey, I wrote this one!"

Without thinking, he grabbed the lanyard and held it closer to his eyes to get a better look. Kurt was mesmerized just by the fact that Blaine was actually making a real effort to talk to him, instead of just posing with him and giving him a half-assed compliment, like _somebody _he just met.

"What a coincidence," Blaine stated warmly, the lanyard slipping from his fingers. Then he glanced into Kurt's face, hazel eyes burning into mesmorizing glasz. And the feeling of something good, something different, hit him again, only this time he knew what it was.

Kurt Hummel was that feeling.

As his eyes were still locked on Kurt's, Blaine's fingers fumbled for a picture. When he'd finally detached one, he finally tore his gaze away and took his sweet time writing on the picture in black Sharpie. He made extra care not to smudge a single letter, in fear that it would not get the message across.

When he was satisfied, he passed the photo to Kurt and thanked him for coming out for the night. Kurt shook his hand politely. Blaine sensed that Kurt wasn't quite ready to leave yet, so he opened his arms for Kurt.

Blaine barely knew the guy, and he was hugging him tightly to his chest. He only ever hugged the girls that came at the meet and greet, as most of the guys he'd met so far were not interested in him.

But standing there, with Kurt wedged in between his arms, he felt different. For months he'd been splitting his time between New York and Los Angeles without a real permanent home. He hadn't visited his family since he first moved. And sure, he had an apartment at both places for convenience, but they weren't homely enough for him. He didn't even have real appliances there, like a toaster or a blender. Every piece of furniture in his apartments were necessities, no luxuries (like a bathtub) allowed.

With Kurt in his arms, back where he used to live, he felt like he was finally home.

* * *

Kurt was, in one word, sated. He was in the arms of his favorite celebrity, and he'd just taken a brilliant photo with him! He'd just have a conversation with him! And partly flirted with him!

That night was a night of exclamation points.

Finally, Blaine pulled away from their embrace. Kurt blushed as he realized that most of the occupants of the room were watching them. The two female crew members were giggling slightly.

"Here's the photo." Blaine smiled, exposing two rows of nearly perfect white teeth, albeit his signature crooked front tooth.

Kurt nodded.

"Stick around," Blaine urged. "We'll take a group photo after we're all through." He helped Kurt unfold a gray chair and gestured for him to sit. Kurt obliged, happy that Blaine was caring enough.

Just like the concert, the rest of the meet and greet passed in a blur. Kurt was clutching the photos in his hands, not even bothering to look down.

Finally, after the dark brown haired boy received his signed photos from Blaine, they were all encouraged to squeeze onto the sofa together. After all of the meet and greet winners were sitting down (on the arms, on the cushions, on the back) Sebastian lay over the laps of the front row people. He covered a majority of them, except Kurt, who was blissfully excluded due to Sebastian's height.

Blaine noticed the difference and, without warning, plopped sideways down on Kurt's lap, tucking his legs up as though they were Shaggy and Scooby Doo.

The cameramen laughed as they took three shots of the group. Then, after the best picture was chosen and printed out, Sebastian and Blaine signed each copy and handed then away.

"Have a nice night!" called out Sebastian.

Blaine handed the last copy to Kurt, his hand lingering longer than it should've. "Drive home safely."

The gesture and the warning seemed more personal than it should've been perceived. Kurt nodded and thanked him before being ushered out by the crew members. By then, the Cat's Meow was practically empty.


	6. 6: Literally Falling

Chapter Six

Literally Falling

It wasn't until Kurt got home that he took a good look at the photo. Poor planning on Kurt's part, but he was in such a daze that he didn't think about it for a while. His heart was still pounding against his rib cage.

He'd _hugged_ Blaine Anderson. He'd taken multiple photos with him. He'd _flirted_ with him. Well, quasi-flirted.

In the safety of his bedroom, Kurt spread out all of his merchandise over his silver bedspread. Blaine Anderson smiled at him from the covers of his CDs, the shirt he'd donned, the four posters, the square buttons, the glow-in-the-dark wristbands, and the photo he had gotten with him. Then he reluctantly added his photo with Sebastian Smythe.

That's when he saw it.

The photo that he had taken with Sebastian Smythe. Kurt was smiling somewhat forcibly at the camera, while Sebastian was smiling at _him_.

Kurt glanced down at his watch. The watch that Sebastian had noticed right after the photo. He usually wasn't so amused by his watch, but he was doing anything he could to distract himself from the fact that his heart was palpitating.

Then his gaze settled on his picture with Blaine, and his irregular heart beat quickened.

The writing on his photo could not be mistake, even by Kurt during his state of mind. In black Sharpie, Blaine had written the following:

You _really _make me feel like I'm living a teenage dream.

It's nice to meet you, Kurt. I'd like to see you again.

Love, Blaine Anderson

Kurt re-read the message three times. His mind was swimming with questions and thoughts. One thought that struck him many times was that Blaine had signed it with "love". He hadn't done the same as Sebastian, who had simply written his name. He had added "love".

Despite Kurt's immense dislike of Katy Perry, he found that Blaine quoting "Teenage Dream" was incredibly sweet. For a second, he wondered if that was Blaine's intention, to make his message seem so flirty.

And "I'd like to see you again"? Kurt would absolutely _die _if they met again. He had barely survived their first meeting. He had pulled over during his drive home because he was hyperventilating.

Kurt was certain that he was falling in love with a man that he barely knew.

Kurt walked up to his corkboard and found two clear thumbtacks. After attaching the photo he'd taken with Blaine on the corkboard, he hesitantly added his and Sebastian's picture.

The old saying states that a picture's worth a thousand words. But to Kurt, the stories that accompanied those pictures were much longer than that.

* * *

Blaine was hesitant to be in his childhood home. He'd lived in the two-story Victorian style abode for a majority of his life, but he felt like an estranged foreigner of the house as he walked across the foyer to meet his mother.

"Blaine." His mother held out her arms to give him a big hug. "It's been so long."

"It has," Blaine agreed, patting his mother's back. He pulled away to scan her aging face. There were more wrinkles around her eyes and on her forehead than when he'd last seen her. She was also considerably shorter than him now than he remembered.

"Sorry we couldn't go to your show," his mother said softly. "We were awfully tired."

Blaine bit back a bitter laugh. Being "awfully tired" was one of his parents' many excuses for not attending anything that revolved around Blaine or Cooper. But it wasn't really his mother's fault for not attending. It was more of his father's fault.

Speak of the Devil, and the Devil doth appear. In his usual suit and tie, of course.

"Blaine," his father greeted him from the doorway, "it's been nine months."

"I'm aware of that." Blaine sighed. "It's . . . nice to see you, Dad."

His father shrugged. "Amaryllis, we're going to be late for brunch with the Avilas." He looked straight at Blaine for one second before glancing away. "You are welcome to attend if you wish."

"That's all right," Blaine replied, trying to keep his tone light. "I'm just going to go shopping. Going on tour just made me realize how bereft my wardrobe is of shirts."

His father didn't respond. His mother gave him another hug before ushering him out so that she could get ready for the brunch.

Blaine walked dejectedly to the rental car he'd parked at the curb. As he drove to the Lima Galleria, where he'd attained most of his clothes in the past, he thought, _So much for family_.

When he arrived at the mall, he quickly pulled on a few accessories to disguise himself. Hopefully a grey beanie, yellow sunglasses, and stubble will mask him from the few fans he had here.

His mind wandered to the boy he'd met last night. What was it about _him_ that appealed to Blaine so much?

He struggled to remember the boy's name. Chris? Bert?

Blaine shook his head. Right. Kurt. As soon as he got the first name right, his surname seemed to flow along with it.

Kurt Hummel. What was so damn entrancing about Kurt Hummel that made him partially memorable to Blaine? Sadly, Blaine usually forgets the names of the people he'd met the day after the performance. There are far too many people and too little time to spend with them.

Kurt was absolutely amazing at the meet and greet. The hug they shared was electrifying. Not to mention the boy's sharp wit and, Blaine had to note, looks. Kurt had perfectly styled brown hair, a clear complexion, a trim body, and the most interestingly colored eyes he'd ever seen.

Even his _name_ was beautiful. Kurt Hummel. It flowed off of Blaine's tongue during his drive to the mall.

"Kurt Hummel," he said softly, admiring the sound of it. "Kurt Hummel."

He wanted to see him again, but how?

* * *

"He's been sighted! He's been sighted!" Mercedes crowed from the tiny speaker on Kurt's iPhone.

Kurt paused in his scrolling and sighed. "Who?"

"Sebastian Smythe," giggled Mercedes. "Santana saw him. Apparently he's at the Lima Freeze. We have to go!"

"Calm down," Kurt stated slowly. "Santana's probably just seeing things after being on a Smythe high. Remember when his CD came out? She claimed that she saw a llama in a track suit on her way to school for, like, three days."

Kurt was scrolling through his photo album on Facebook. Chandler and the other eight people had added him, and they were posting their pictures. For a moment, Kurt wondered if he should share his.

"No, Kurt," Mercedes insisted, "this time it's different. There's actual pictures of him. I can send you one."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "I have enough photos of him for a lifetime, Mercedes."

It was a blatant lie, of course. He only had the one. But that one photo seemed to mean more than a hundred smirking Smythes that he could rip from tween magazines.

Even Santana had the shirtless poster of him from _J-14_. It seemed like every girl at McKinley who was straight and a fan of him had that poster. It's like they all texted around to make sure that they all grabbed a copy. The freshman girl whose locker was situated next to Kurt's always flashed him a bit of Sebastian's stomach whenever he had the misfortune of being at his locker at the same time as her.

Kurt wanted to scan his photo with Blaine, but decided against it. He felt as though he should keep what it looked like a secret, just for a little while longer. Maybe he could Photoshop the _Ensnared_ logo out of the picture so it would look more personal. The possibilities on Photoshop were endless.

"Let's go meerkat hunting," Mercedes teased. "_I'm _taking a picture with him this time."

Dejectedly, Kurt responded, "All right. But I'll need to go to the mall afterwards. Retail therapy always revives me from a hunt."

Mercedes didn't catch his sarcasm.

* * *

Sebastian was in the middle of a growing crowd. He had just been craving cake batter ice cream, and since they were going to be in Ohio for a week, he thought he'd stop by one of his old favorites for ice cream. He thought he was being sneaky enough until he saw a camera flash in his direction.

From that moment on, it was chaos. A disorganized melee of teenagers kept screaming his name and asking him for autographs and pictures. Usually he would take it all in stride, but this crowd was uncontrollable. The girls in red-and-white cheerleading uniforms were revealing themselves to him, asking him to sign their breasts. Jocks were loudly planning on selling autographs on eBay to buy new video game systems.

Sebastian hadn't even finished his ice cream. Somewhere in the Lima Freeze, his impeccable scoop of cake batter ice cream had fallen onto the floor.

Sebastian felt as though his brain was about to implode from all of the shouting. He just wanted to get back onto the tour bus and watch a movie. How did his life get to be so crazy?

As the yelling grew louder still, he wondered why he even wanted this life of crazed fans and fame. Sometimes he wished that he was still making covers on YouTube that only got a hundred views on a good day.

"Sebastian!" a cheerleader yelled. "Please sign my boob!"

"Brittany," another cheerleader scolded. "Put your top back on."

"Mercedes, it's really loud-"

"Smythe! Hey! Would you sign my hat? I need a new controller for my PS3!"

Then a loud thud and a gasp effectively silenced the crowd. Sebastian was stunned by how quickly they were silenced, but his thoughts turned to how they were. Shortly after the thought crossed his mind did he hear the chatter. Somebody had apparently fallen, and they fell _hard_.

The large group parted so that Sebastian could get a good look at who had fallen.

The boy he'd met at the meet and greet the night before was lying on the ground, his eyes closed. A slippery scoop of cake batter ice cream, the culprit, slowly melted at his feet.


	7. 7: The Exhibition of Caring

Chapter Seven

The Exhibition of Caring

Blaine Anderson crept stealthily through the Lima Galleria. He had bought a few things at Banana Republic, a new cologne, and was just heading to a salon to stock up on his favorite hair products when he overheard a few teenage girls waiting in line at Auntie Amy's.

"Sebastian Smythe just revived a fallen fan!" gasped the first girl.

"What? Do tell," the other girl urged.

"Apparently, Nicole and Jonathan were at the Lima Freeze when Sebastian was and one of his fans slipped and fell on the ground." The first girl sounded skeptical now. "It sounds kind of . . . unbelievable."

"He probably slipped on ice or something," said the second girl defensively. "That cashier guy is totally disrespectful. He kicked me and Gibson out when we poured our milkshakes on that Glee club girl's head."

_Yeah,_ Blaine thought, _the_ cashier _is disrespectful_.

"Any other news?" asked the second girl.

The first girl shook her head. "Oh, wait. Apparently it's a guy from my school. Curtis Humbert or something."

"Never heard of him. Is he on the baseball team?"

The first girl completely ignored the waiting Auntie Amy's cashier in favor of her phone. "Hmm . . . oh! Melissa says that the guy's name is Kurt Hummel."

Blaine's ears perked up at the sound of the familiar name. Without thinking, he edged slightly in the direction of the girls, keeping his distance while still being able to overhear them. That wasn't a hard feat considering the fact that they were practically shrieking to each other while standing in line.

"The male Cheerio?" The second girl's nose wrinkled. "Isn't he gay?"

Blaine's heart soared. There was a possibility that Kurt was gay, which meant that there was a possibility that they could-

"I bet he was trying to hit on Sebastian," the first girl remarked. "Kurt's always been that type that goes for what he wants. I guess he wants Sebastian."

"Is Sebastian gay?" wondered the second girl aloud. "If he is, then I totally wish that they end up together. It would be so cute."

Blaine's heart sank. Was it possible? Was Kurt going after Sebastian? He felt the possibility of him and Kurt hanging out together, possibly being a couple, vanish. If Kurt wasn't interested in him, then darn it all, he wasn't going to even bother.

But then again, he'd only met the kid during a meet and greet. Wasn't Blaine over thinking everything? Besides, it might not even be Kurt that had fallen. Maybe they really _did_ mean Curtis Humbert.

And even if it was Kurt trying to grab Sebastian's attention, then who was he to stand in their way? Even though Blaine barely knew the boy until the night before, he'd felt a connection that even Sebastian "Mambo Man" Smythe couldn't break. They could still be friends.

If Blaine ever saw him again, anyway.

Without thinking, Blaine removed his sunglasses and wiped them on the front of his red T-shirt. This simple, reflexive movement was so nonchalant that he hoped that nobody would bother to notice the face underneath the glasses.

Unfortunately for him, the second girl turned around to glance at the big line forming for the cinnamon pretzels. She spotted him quickly enough.

"It's Blaine Anderson!" he heard her say to the first girl in the loudest attempt at a whisper possible. Without bothering to buy his hair products, he bolted from the mall before a big crowd could trap him in, shopping bags swinging from his tiny wrists.

* * *

"Give him some space, guys."

Sebastian had parted the crowd effortlessly, something that he didn't fathom doing just minutes prior. He had just wanted to escape before. Now he was kneeling beside an unconscious teenage boy, feeling on his wrist for a pulse. A steady pulse instantly relieved Sebastian, but not for long.

"Should we call for an ambulance?" asked a worried cheerleader.

Sebastian pulled off his gray sweater, momentarily revealing his torso to his pleased audience. He slowly lifted the boy's head off of the floor and cushioned him with the sweater. When he pulled away his hand, he was pleased to see that there was no blood on his fingertips. That was a good sign.

"He's probably going to get a terrible bump on his head later," Sebastian diagnosed, "and he'll wake with a headache." He turned to the teenager manning the front counter, watching speechlessly. "Can we please have some ice?"

The worker dutifully nodded, and in no time Kurt's head was nursed by both an ice pack and Sebastian's sweater. Sebastian's fans watched intently as he tended to the boy with as much care as a nurse in a hospital. The Lima Freeze worker cleaned up the melting ice cream and gave Sebastian a complimentary bowl of freshly made cake batter ice cream, which he enjoyed as he looked over his inadvertent patient in silence.

Then he heard a familiar voice. "Sebastian?"

He whipped his head around, trying to find the source. He located Pierce at the door, looking at him as though he was looking at a stranger.

Pierce stepped cautiously toward Sebastian and the fallen victim. "Isn't this the boy-?"

"Yeah," a teenage girl piped up. She'd been standing with the boy when he'd fallen, and was so relieved that Sebastian dealt with it. "He met Sebastian yesterday."

"Ah, a fan!" Pierce smiled crookedly. "Maybe this will work out in our favor after all."

"How so?" Sebastian asked, eyes narrowing. "How is _anything_ in this situation favorable?" He pointed at the boy's peaceful face, clearly exasperated by his manager's reaction.

Just then, the boy slowly began to awaken.

* * *

_Ouch_.

Kurt was slowly waking up. It was awfully strange for him to be waking up, since he didn't remember going to sleep. In fact, the last thing he remembered was walking into the Lima Freeze with Mercedes on a fruitless celebrity hunt.

_ They had walked into the packed Lima Freeze. Instantaneously, Kurt's ears began to ring from all of the shouting that ensued. He didn't see Smythe anywhere, and he was starting to get a major headache._

_ "Mercedes, it's really loud in here!" he had yelled, somewhat annoyed that he'd been sucker punched into the situation. It was still too soon for loud places._

_ "Come on, Kurt," Mercedes had pleaded then. "I can just see him-"_

That's all Kurt could remember before the blackness.

The back of his head was pounding painfully. Yet despite the throbbing pain, he sensed a strange sense of coldness spreading upwards from the nape of his neck and slowly traveling up to the source of the pounding. Another sensation accompanied the coldness, of something soft and supportive that hugged his head and prevented it from touching the floor.

"Ohhhh..." A loud groan of pain escaped his lips before he could stop himself. Kurt attempted to sit up but his head felt as though it had somehow tripled in weight and kept him down.

"Are you all right there?"

The voice, at first unfamiliar, refracted and bounced around his head, the syllables becoming indecipherable. The words were dissolving into pure gibberish, but he was gaining recognition of the voice. Who was that?

A single name slipped into his mind, floating instead of bending.

_Sebastian Smythe . . . ?_

His eyes just . . . opened. He hadn't meant to open his eyes. They just opened by themselves. He was staring up at the paneled ceiling, right at the fluorescent lighting that always made him look like Kermit the Frog during his off days.

To his left, a massive group of people gawked at him. Most had their phones out and were snapping photos and fingers were flying over keyboards.

To his right, Sebastian Smythe.

His heart did triple back flips in his chest.

"Are you all right there, Kurt?" Sebastian asked, smiling warmly. "You took quite a nasty fall."

"I fell?" croaked Kurt, disgusted and embarrassed by the sound of his voice. He cleared his throat and added, "How?"

Sebastian looked sheepish when he replied. "It may have something to do with a scoop of fallen ice cream. Which may or may not have been there because of me, but that's not the point."

Kurt forced himself to sit up for a few seconds, which made his head throbbing increase in speed and pain. He yelped, and instantly the superstar was asking him questions again.

"Why are you so inquisitive?" Kurt asked weakly.

Sebastian cracked a half-smile. "A fan has never gotten injured in my presence before. This is quite new to me."

Mercedes chirped from behind Sebastian, "Are you all right? My God, you fell _hard_."

"You'd think I'd remember falling," grumbled Kurt, who was getting rather annoyed at the situation. He'd made a spectacle out of himself in Sebastian's presence. That usually wouldn't bother him, as he was sure that he didn't even like Smythe, but Sebastian had gone so far as to kneel beside him and watch over him. That was embarrassing enough.

Kurt glanced around the Lima Freeze. The group of people were still there, observing their interactions with awed expressions.

Just the cherry on top of the situation.

"I think I'm going to be fine," Kurt murmured, rubbing the back of his head cautiously. He added, to his friend, "Mercedes, go get your picture taken."

Sebastian turned to look at Mercedes. "Yeah, I'll be right with you." He turned back to Kurt. "Listen, I have to go soon, but are you sure you're going to be fine?"

Kurt was taken aback by the exhibition of caring. "I'm fine," he pressed. "Smythe, go back to your tour bus. Sing your music. Forget about the guy with the headache."

That was when Sebastian did something unexpected. In front of many observers, he leaned in close to Kurt's ear and whispered five words that astounded Kurt and, when he told her the story, Mercedes.

Then, without another word, Sebastian snapped a photo with Mercedes and left the Lima Freeze in a frenzy.

* * *

Blaine was in the tour bus. He'd left most of his luggage in there instead of his hotel room, so he was packing up his purchases when Sebastian arrived.

"I heard about you having a run in with a fan," Blaine said casually, as if he hadn't just spent an hour figuring out how to say it without seeming accusing. "Who was it?"

Sebastian shrugged. "His name's Kurt Hummel. He slipped and fell, actually." A small smile was playing on his lips, which made Blaine feel a little suspicious. "Don't worry, he's all good."

_That's not what I'm worried about_, Blaine thought.

Sebastian moved his hands over his chest as if to take off his sweater. He looked down and chuckled, remembering that he'd left his sweater with Kurt and his friend.

Blaine resumed folding his new pair of red jeans. Perhaps it wasn't as big of a deal as those girls at the mall had made it. Maybe-

"In fact, I may have a date with him tonight."

Blaine's grip on the jeans slackened, and they fell to the floor.


	8. 8: When You Wish Upon A Star

Chapter Eight

When You Wish Upon A Star (For A Star)

_"Old movie theater. Nine o'clock."_

Sebastian's unmistakable words rang in Kurt's ears for the rest of the day. While he was showering, styling his hair, dressing up, and having dinner, the words played on in a continuous loop in his mind. The pain in his head had reduced significantly, thanks to the painkillers Kurt had in his bathroom cabinet for emergencies. Now all he had to worry about is his nine o'clock hang-out with Sebastian.

At least, that was what he hoped it was.

Mercedes had gushed about her photo with Sebastian to anybody who would listen, but kept her lips firmly sealed shut about what would happen that evening.

"I'm not going to intrude," Mercedes stated when Kurt had asked her to accompany him. "You just hang out with Smythe. If he wanted me to go, he'd have asked me or he would have said so. I'm not getting in between you two."

Kurt had then questioned her words, but she had refused to elaborate.

Kurt rubbed a shine serum in his hair and stared at his reflection. He didn't know why he was making a big deal out of the night, seeing as it was Smythe. If it had been Blaine, however, he would have been psyched to the point of nausea.

Yet he felt anticipation all the same.

Why was he even going, anyway? He had better things to do than waste time with an Internet sensation, especially one that he constantly bashes. Why should he even bother following the guy's instructions?

A small part of him shoved the thoughts away. He was going to be hanging out with an _Internet sensation_. Even if it was Sebastian Smythe, it was still something entirely different. It would be more exciting than hanging out with Mercedes at the mall. They'll be watching a movie together.

What harm could come from that?

* * *

Blaine gradually weaseled out the information from Sebastian. It was easy enough, seeing as how the guy waltzed around the shared hotel suite bragging about it for the rest of the day. He'd all but sung the details of his planned evening with Kurt at the top of his lungs.

"The old movie theater's going to be showing _The Little Mermaid_," Sebastian remarked. "I figured we'd go watch that and then go for dessert. After that, who knows?" His voice implied that perhaps he did know.

"You're such a horndog," Pierre remarked, shaking his head at his talent. "When I said that it would be a favorable situation, I didn't mean _this_."

Sebastian smirked in response.

"I didn't know you were gay," Pierre said thoughtfully.

Sebastian pulled out some clothes from his suitcase. "Bisexual, actually. It's my personal preference, so I'd prefer to keep it on the down-low, okay?"

Dejectedly, Pierre replied, "Yeah, all right. Would've made a headline or two, but if that's what you want..."

"It's what I want." Sebastian smiled smugly at Blaine's expression. "And I always get what I want, don't I, Anderson?"

Sebastian acted like that for the remainder of the day. Despite the slight innuendos and bragging, Blaine detecting traces of anxiety in his adversary's voice.

"Why are you two even staying in a hotel?" Pierre inquired. "Your family lives in Westerville, right?"

Sebastian and Blaine simultaneously replied, "Reasons."

Pierre shrugged at their responses, but the two boys exchanged looks. Blaine thought, _What could possibly be keeping Sebastian from his staying at his family's house?_

Finally, Sebastian ducked into the shared bathroom of the suite to prepare, just twenty minutes before his "date". As soon as the door closed, Blaine left the hotel and made his way to the old movie theatre in his car.

He had less than twenty minutes to upstage Sebastian Smythe on his own date.

Of course, Blaine felt terrible about crashing his date, but it was _Kurt Hummel_. The boy he'd made a lanyard for _Ensnared_, the boy who he told he'd like to meet again. This was his only shot at seeing the guy again, and he knew it. Why did Sebastian have to meet Kurt again?

The unfairness of the situation made Blaine bitter for a moment. Then he remembered that he was partly ruining his adversary's date with Kurt, and he felt terrible again.

But he had to ignore his battling inner emotions. The old movie theatre loomed before him, the flashing marquee displaying THE LITTLE MERMAID 7:15 7:30 9:10 9:25 in black block letters.

Standing underneath the flashing marquee was a handsome teenage boy. _The _handsome teenage boy who had been plaguing Blaine's thoughts since they'd met.

* * *

It was eight forty-nine, and Kurt was waiting patiently for the arrival of a certain low-key celebrity. He had Sebastian's sweater tucked under his arm so that he could return it (after laundering it, of course). He kept telling himself that nothing was going to go wrong that night. He hadn't experienced a wardrobe malfunction, it wasn't raining, and judging by the marquee above him, they were going to watch a Disney classic: _The Little Mermaid_. Nothing could go wrong with a classic.

Kurt wasn't terribly excited to spend some time with Sebastian, but there were a few butterflies present in his stomach. He'd been standing underneath the marquee for more than fifteen minutes, as he'd come early enough to get himself mentally prepared, and that was more than enough time for him to come to a proper conclusion.

He had never hung out with someone famous before. The only reason he anticipated the time with him was because there was some small part of him that wishes that he could be Sebastian.

Kurt entertained himself with an unachievable fantasy while he waited. He was just as famous as Sebastian, and he and Blaine Anderson were on a tour together. Neither was proclaimed as the others opening act. On stage, they were equals.

Off stage...

Kurt shook his head. That damn photo was getting to him again. The signature on the picture of Blaine was merely a generic line. There was no way he'd ever see Blaine again. If Kurt ever did, it wasn't like Blaine would even remember him. He probably had fifty people throwing themselves at him per night.

Kurt smiled, remembering the words written on the photo in black Sharpie.

_You _really _make me feel like I'm living a teenage dream. It's nice to meet you, Kurt. I'd like to see you again._

The sky had darkened considerably since the last time Kurt had looked up. Now he could just faintly see the first of many stars poking through the deep navy swathing the skyline.

How did the First Star nursery rhyme go? His mother had said it with him time and time again after he'd first heard it in _Pinocchio_. Every single night, she reminded him to make a wish on the first star of the night.

He remembered every word as though his mother was whispering the chant into his ear.

_Star light, star bright, the first star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight._

Kurt squeezed his eyelids shut.

_I wish to see Blaine Anderson again._

When he opened his eyes, he was shocked and speechless. Blaine Anderson, in a pair of dark blue jeans, a red graphic T-shirt, and a grey beanie, stood in his line of vision, smiling amicably at him.

"Hey, stranger," greeted Blaine.

Kurt could've done a lot of things at that precise moment. He could've choked completely and look foolish. He could've vomited all over the curb, disgusting the guy he'd been wishing to see. He could've straightened up and responded with a saccharine smile.

Instead, Kurt sneezed vociferously.

Blaine pulled out a miniature pack of tissues from his pocket and handed them over to Kurt.

"Are you all right?" He sounded genuinely worried for Kurt.

Kurt felt himself flush, embarrassed. "I'm just fine," he assured him, blowing his nose as quietly as he could for good measure. "I'm not sick."

Blaine cracked a smile. "Good. Then I'm glad we're meeting again. Just like how I wanted to." He winked. "Let's head inside."

Kurt's eyes widened. "Oh, I'm sorry, but I'm supposed to be meeting Sebastian Smythe."

"Sebastian?" Blaine's eyebrows furrowed. "Oh, right. You must be the date he was talking about."

Kurt swallowed hard. _Date?_ Nothing that Sebastian had said at the Lima Freeze had indicated that this meeting was a date! He didn't even know that Sebastian was gay, let alone that he was remotely interested in him!

"O-oh," Kurt stammered. "I . . . I didn't know that this was a date."

Blaine shook his head. "You didn't? Well, then I'll join you, and you can consider it a simple 'hang out'. Why don't I go inside and buy us tickets to _The Little Mermaid_? When Sebastian comes, you both can come inside."

Kurt made to pull out a few bills from his wallet, but Blaine stopped his hand. "My treat, Kurt," he said softly.

So Kurt was left to wait again, this time growing more apprehensive by the second. What a funny coincidence that Blaine had shown up here, of all places.

Something wasn't right, but he just couldn't put his finger on it . . .

* * *

After Sebastian had showered, dressed, and quickly styled his hair, he had said goodbye to Pierce and headed out. As he hailed a taxi, he silently praised himself for his disguise. He looked completely ordinary in Abercrombie & Fitch jeans, a Hollister shirt, and Converse. He was determined to avoid making a scene that night.

Sebastian whistled as the taxi drove him to the old cinema. He was anticipating the smell of buttery popcorn and cheesy pizza slices, the ringing sounds of the arcade, the glow of the lit-up marquee, and seeing Kurt again.

Not necessarily in that order.

When the taxi finally stopped at his destination, Sebastian paid and tipped the driver before stepping out. As soon as he did, he spotted Kurt immediately. He was glancing over his shoulder, as if looking through the glass front doors for a glimpse of something.

"Hey, Kurt!" he greeted warmly, startling the teenager. Kurt quickly regained his composure and smiled, somewhat reticently, at Sebastian.

"Let's go inside." Sebastian opened the door for Kurt, and Kurt gratefully stepped through. "Tickets and candy are on me."

Kurt's eyes widened. "Actually-"

When Kurt paused, an arm slung around his shoulder. Sebastian froze at the sight of Blaine smiling at Kurt, his arm draped on him as though they were the best of friends. Or more.

"I bought tickets already," Blaine said brightly, acting unaware of the tension. "For Kurt and me, I mean."

Pursing his lips over his teeth, Sebastian feigned a smile. "No problem. I'll go buy my own ticket."

Blaine nudged Kurt. "While he does that, do you want to order some popcorn?"

Sebastian gritted his teeth.


	9. 9: If Only, If Only

Chapter Nine

If Only, If Only

Sebastian was seething throughout the film. He hadn't had a chance to speak to Kurt without Blaine rudely interrupting. When he attempted to tell Blaine - very politely, as they were still in Kurt's presence - that he needed to leave, Blaine simply feigned innocence.

Blaine sat on Kurt's left, while Sebastian was forced to be neglected on his right. Blaine had bought a large bag of popcorn (presumably just for him and Kurt) that Kurt insisted on sharing with both of them. When Kurt was preoccupied with the vibrant opening musical number "Under the Sea", Sebastian pulled out his phone and sent a scathing text to Blaine.

While Ariel, the naive Disney princess, traded her voice for legs, he watched as Blaine leaned close to Kurt's ear and whispered something that made him laugh. Blaine looked pleased with himself before grabbing a few buttery kernels of popcorn from the bag on Kurt's lap.

Sebastian could barely focus. Kurt only acknowledged him a few times, and that was whenever his cartoon namesake appeared on screen. In fact, one of the ways that he knew the cartoon crab was on screen when Kurt would poke him in the side. Kurt had Sebastian's sweater neatly folded on his armrest at the beginning of the film, but had pulled it on because he had felt cold.

Finally, the movie ended. Kurt walked out, clutching the nearly empty popcorn bag and looking nostalgic.

"I haven't watched _The Little Mermaid_ in so long," he gushed. "Thank you, uh, both of you. I don't think I would have known about this showing if I hadn't been invited out."

"You're welcome," Sebastian said earnestly. He glanced at his watch, aware that Blaine was turning on his phone. "Want to go get some ice cream? Or is it too soon?" he joked.

Kurt smirked, understanding the reference. "Funny, Smythe. I could go for ice cream and a burger, actually."

Sebastian brightened. "Great! There's a diner just two blocks from here that serves the best burgers and sundaes."

Kurt smiled directly at him, which Sebastian felt was for the first time in years. "Sounds good." He turned to Blaine. "Are you coming?"

Blaine's eyebrows rose at the message displayed on his screen. Nevertheless, he smiled and said that he'd be delighted to join them. He purposefully slung his arm around Kurt's shoulder again as they walked out.

The night was still considered young in Ohio. Ten-fifty on a weekend meant that there were underage teenagers sneaking into the evergrowing line for the popular (and expensive) nightclub, Four Hundred. Sebastian eyed a few girls in line who were wearing short skirts and crop tops, but remembered that he was on a quasi date with a very handsome boy.

He turned to crack a joke to Kurt, but he was already deep in conversation with Blaine over Broadway musicals.

"My favorite's _Wicked_," Kurt shared warmly. "Idina Menzel is flawless. I've watched my DVD of it about a million times already."

Blaine chuckled. "I've met her, and she's a refined woman. Infinitely kind, that Idina."

"_I've_ met Kristin Chenoweth," Sebastian said. "To be honest, I've never met a more vibrant, hilarious lady."

That caught Kurt's attention. Now his glasz eyes were focused on Sebastian.

"I heard about that. Do you _really_ keep in touch with her?"

Sebastian nodded, eager to have an in with his should-be date.

Blaine nudged Kurt. "Let's get some food before you internally combust." His smile didn't waver, but Sebastian knew the look behind Blaine's eyes. He was annoyed that Sebastian was finally getting a few words in.

"All right." Although Blaine kept his attention, Kurt kept looking excitedly over at Sebastian. Sebastian grinned back, throwing a wink in for good measure.

As Blaine rattled on about his first Broadway experience, Sebastian detected a faint flush of pink on Kurt's cheeks. Sebastian concluded that there were about four factors that could have caused him to blush. One: Blaine and his carefree and offhanded flirting. Two: the slowly decreasing temperature. Three: Kurt's own thoughts. Four: the wink he'd thrown his way.

He liked to think that it was due to the latter.

* * *

Little Tweets was a quaint diner nestled between a bank and a bikram yoga studio. It sold everything from the infamous Nutella mousse pie to the crispiest, melt-in-your-mouth grilled cheese sandwiches. The walls were painted sky blue with puffy white clouds, with several colorful birds thrown in every which way. In the early twenty-first century, Little Tweets was known as the "bird diner". Now it was known as the "Twitter diner". The light blue color scheme, the same blue as Twitter logo, didn't help either.

Kurt slid into the first booth he saw. Sebastian tentatively slid opposite him, while Blaine nabbed the chance to be next to Kurt. They skimmed through the small blue menus, mentally listing what they'd like to order.

A svelte waitress traipsed up to their booth almost immediately, her curly red hair pulled back into an incredibly high ponytail. From the way that her brown eyes glinted, she had yet to discover the gang's true preferences.

"Hello! I'm Mindy, and I'll be your server for this evening. What would you like to start off with?" She giggled and bit her lip, waiting for Blaine's response.

Blaine smiled amiably. "I'd like a Nutella milkshake and a grilled cheese on whole wheat bread."

Mindy giggled. "What about _you_?" She pointed a long, fake fingernail at Sebastian, her voice suddenly lower on the last word in an attempt to be seductive.

"My friend and I would like Nutella milkshakes too," Sebastian ordered, with a nod of confirmation from Kurt, "and two inside-out cheeseburgers."

Mindy twirled a few strands of hair around her finger. "I'll be back with your orders in a jiffy!"

As soon as Mindy flounced away, the boys collectively sighed in relief. Kurt was glad that the ordeal was over for now. Sebastian was happy he hadn't been recognized and that he'd been able to order for Kurt without protest. Blaine was annoyed that Sebastian had ordered for Kurt, but was pleased that he was going to order some delicious food. Besides, Blaine had the upper hand.

"I never got to ask you," Blaine said, nudging Kurt gently, "if you enjoyed the concert."

Kurt smiled sheepishly. "It was the best concert I've ever been to."

"How many concerts have you gone to?" Sebastian interjected.

"Three. Beyonce, Lady Gaga, and yours." Kurt scanned the menu again. "You know, I still can't come to terms that I'm hanging out in a diner with you two. I'd just been to your concert."

Sebastian's grin widened. "Well, it was a pleasure to meet you. I-"

Blaine interrupted him. "Kurt, I meant what I said. On the photo, I mean. I did want to see you again, but I didn't know how." He shrugged, suddenly interested in the salt shaker. "I'm glad I ran into you tonight."

Kurt looked straight into Blaine's hazel eyes. "I'm glad we met again, too."

An assortment of feelings rushed through Blaine as they maintained eye contact. Astonishment, for he had only hoped that Kurt would feel the same way; happiness, because now he knew that he did; and a twinge of guilt. He glanced over at Sebastian, who had quickly become enthralled with his iPhone. His guilt intensified.

Mindy returned with the food all too soon. Sebastian ate, keeping his gaze firmly on his light blue plate. Blaine chewed on his grilled cheese sandwich with verve. Kurt daintily sliced and ate his cheeseburger slowly.

When crumbs were all that were left on their plates, and their tall milkshake cups were slurped dry, Blaine paid the bill (insisting on both Kurt and Sebastian's behalf) and they left.

"What do you want to do now?" asked Sebastian, whose spirits had lifted due to the good quality of the food. It was true that a nice warm meal could change a person's mood. "Sneak into Four Hundred? Crash a party?"

"It's getting late," Kurt observed. "I told my dad that I'd be going to a movie with a friend. He'll be worried if I'm out past midnight without informing him first."

"Well, we should take you home then." Kurt knew that he hadn't imagined the dismay in Blaine's voice.

Sebastian flagged down a taxi. They slid into the backseat and headed back to Kurt's house. Blaine sat on Kurt's left, while Sebastian occupied the rightmost seat.

"If you want," Kurt said slowly, "you can come in and hang out for a bit."

"Absolutely," Blaine replied. "I haven't been able to _really_ hang out with someone since I moved out of Lima."

Sebastian responded, "If it's not too much trouble for you, I'd like to spend a little more time with you."

"When do you have to leave, anyways?" Kurt inquired as the taxi pulled up to the Hummel-Hudson estate.

"We have a week allotted." Blaine unbuckled his seat belt and swung open the door. "Pierce, our agent, wanted to give us time with our families."

"He's kind of our agent, manager, and pain in the ass all in one," Sebastian remarked dryly, paying the taxi driver in twenties. "I don't know the real difference between an agent and a manager, though, so I prefer to call him my manager."

The taxi sped away.

Kurt glanced down at his attire just before they reached the front door. "Oh," he said, sounding embarrassed, "I'm wearing your sweater."

Sebastian shrugged. "Keep it. It looks better on you than it ever has on me."

The compliment warmed Kurt's cheeks. He turned and raised a fist to knock on the front door, but it swung open before he could. Burt Hummel observed the trio from just beyond the doorway. His eyebrows rose when his gaze landed on Blaine.

Finally, he said, "Well, what are you waiting for? Come inside before you freeze. Anyone want coffee or tea?"

Kurt's father's hospitality made Blaine smile. _If only, if only_, he thought as he sighed inwardly.


	10. 10: Lost in Translation

Chapter Ten

Lost in Translation

If a stranger were to peer into the window of the Hummel-Hudson household, specifically the one looking into the living room, they would see quite a strange sight. Burt, Carole, and Kurt sat on the couch drinking out of their respectable mugs of coffee and green tea. Sitting opposite them, in the squashy loveseat that Finn and Rachel usually occupied, were Sebastian and Blaine, drinking tiny cans of Sprite and Coca-Cola.

"How was the movie?" Burt asked Kurt pointedly, raising his eyebrows. Translation: why are there two celebrities in my living room?

Kurt responded meekly, "It was really refreshing to see The Little Mermaid again." He shrugged and pursed his lips for a moment. Translation: it's kind of a long story, Dad.

Burt was relentless. He turned to Blaine and said, "You're the boy on the posters on Kurt's wall, aren't you!"

Kurt made a slicing gesture across his throat with his index finger rapidly. Translation: cut it out! Shut up! Any other variation of those phrases that could possibly quiet you down!

Blaine smiled sheepishly. "I suppose I am. You have a lovely home, by the way," he added, addressing Carole.

Carole smiled, already charmed by Blaine. "Thank you."

"Are you a huge football fan, Mr. Hummel?" Sebastian interjected, not to be outdone.

Burt looked surprised by his outburst but nodded. "You know, Finn played football."

"You don't say," Sebastian remarked.

Carole chose that particular moment to pipe in, "So did Kurt."

Blaine, shocked, turned to an embarrassed Kurt. "You did?"

"Once," he amended, shooting Burt and Carole his signature glare. "But we don't need to talk about tha-"

"He's also a cheerleader," Burt added. "Yep. I'll say he's the best male cheerleader McKinley's ever had."

Sebastian nearly did a Sprite spit-take. "You're a _cheerleader_?" he gasped.

Kurt shrugged, crossing his legs gracefully. "I dabble," he allowed. "Now, it's getting late, and I'm sure that Blaine and Sebastian have better things to do than hear stories about my, er, past and possibly present _extracurriculars._"

Blaine pulled out a silver pocket watch from his back pocket, frowning. "You're right," he said slowly, "Kurt. It's late enough as it is, and I'm sure Pierce - our manager - is worried sick about our well-being. Sebastian and I had better head off now."

"You boys are so nice. Come back anytime," Carole said with a smile.

Blaine, Sebastian, and Kurt headed for the door. Burt had enough sense to leave his son to it.

"Well, it's been really fun," Kurt stated. "How many days do you have left here?"

"Six," Blaine replied quickly. "I don't mean to sound so eager, but I would love to see you again."

"So would I." Sebastian glared at Blaine briefly before adding, "Maybe we could even go on a date."

Silence met Sebastian's statement.

"Well," Sebastian attempted to amend, "if you'd want to go on a date with me, I'd be happy to take you out on a date with me, because I'd love to take you out."

Blaine also said, "Just like the picture said, Kurt. I'd like to see you again." He smiled warmly.

Kurt was too stunned for words. He had Sebastian Smythe babbling in a valiant attempt to ask him out, while _Blaine freaking Anderson_ was asking to spend more time with him. His right hand quickly shot up to his left arm and pinched the sensitive skin there roughly.

"Ouch!" Kurt yelped. Noticing the two had looked confused, he asked, "If you don't mind me asking, could I add your numbers to my phone? That way we can schedule our next meetings properly."

"Uh," Sebastian replied dubiously, "okay." He neglected to mention that he wanted a prompt response to his date inquiry as he added himself into Kurt's phone.

Blaine grinned. He responded, feeling rather bubbly all over, "All right."

While Blaine added himself to Kurt's contact list, Kurt used Blaine's cell phone to call for a taxi. When the two superstars finally said goodbye and left, Kurt chewed worriedly on the inside of his cheek.

In past crises, depending on the seriousness, he'd made a group call with his best girls for advice. But now, with the current situation at hand, he needed to confide in someone he'd always trusted, someone who he knew would give him the proper guidance in such complex times. His best, and most fabulous, adviser.

"Mercedes?" Kurt said into his iPhone. "You'll never believe what happened tonight."

* * *

The taxi driver was either on a hallucinogen, drunk, or simply could not comprehend the difference between a red and green traffic light.

"Slow down," Blaine pleaded.

The driver took another quick turn, almost fishtailing into the next lane and into the path of a two by four. The motion caused Blaine to slam his lower body against Sebastian's.

"Sorry," he apologized.

Smythe snapped, "Save it, Anderson." He leaned forward as cautiously as he could and brandished a fifty to the driver. "Slow down, _por favor_."

The rest of the ride was calmer. Apparently the driver used an unsafe gimmick to wheedle more money out of passengers. Go figure.

As soon as they'd left the taxi, paying three times the amount that they would have if they had a normal driver, Sebastian stormed up to the room.

"Don't even bother apologizing," he snapped when Blaine attempted to make conversation. "You've already done enough tonight."

Before Sebastian could slam the door in his face, his glare softened significantly. In a vulnerable voice that Blaine had never heard before from Sebastian, he asked, "What did I ever do to you?"

Blaine mentally tried to count all of the terrible things Sebastian had ever done to him. What _did _he even do, anyway? Gotten a date with Kurt? Became more successful than Blaine? Allowed him on his concert tour as an opening act? Made fun of Blaine for his stage fright at the beginning of the tour, before he'd gotten used to it?

Sebastian slammed the door, snapping Blaine back to reality. He raised a fist and rapped it three times against the centre of the door. When it didn't open, Blaine sighed.

"I'm sorry," he muttered to the door.

In some convoluted twist of fate, it turned out that Sebastian didn't deserve it. Joining him on his date with Kurt was cruel and malignant on Blaine's part, and he was surprised that he'd just figured that out. If it was _his _date with Kurt and Sebastian sprang in, he'd be angry too.

_I'm terrible_, Blaine thought as he went to his room and changed into his pajamas. _I ruined his date in a stupid attempt to make it my own. My jealousy got the better of me. I let myself get taken over by a stupid idea that if I went to that movie theatre and wooed Kurt, it would be _our_ date._

An image of Kurt, cheeks flushed from the cold night air, swam into his mind. Then another image, this time of Sebastian's solemn profile as they sat in the taxi. A surge of guilt flooded throughout Blaine.

Did he even _deserve_ to be with Kurt? Blaine had finagled his way into the date, took most of the attention away from Sebastian, and then charmed his parents. He had been conniving, dreadful, and deceiving to the other involved parties, and he'd hurt Sebastian's feelings.

Or maybe he was just being too hard on himself.

Blaine lay stiffly on his queen-sized bed, pursing his lips. He didn't know what he was going to do about the situation, but he knew that he had to explain everything to Kurt. Kurt would find out eventually. Everyone always found out about Blaine's secrets eventually.

His phone beeped. Blaine propped himself up on his elbows and stared at the screen.

Kurt Hummel:

Are you free to meet me tomorrow at 4?

Blaine smiled. Kurt must've added himself to his contacts after he'd called for the reckless-until-paid-triple taxi. He replied swiftly.

Blaine Anderson:

Absolutely. Where?

Kurt Hummel:

A coffee place called the Lima Bean. Have you heard of it?

Blaine Anderson:

I practically _lived_ there.

* * *

Mercedes was perched on the edge of Kurt's bed, watching her best friend as he fired off texts to his superstar crush. Weeks ago, Blaine Anderson had seemed unattainable, and now Kurt was actually talking to him. Plus, he'd just spent the evening with him _and _Sexy Smythe.

"The girls are going to freak out when they hear about this," gushed Mercedes.

Kurt smiled at his phone screen. "I know. But can we keep this a secret for now? Just between the six of us?"

"Six?"

"Dad, Carole, you, me, Sebastian, and Blaine," Kurt elaborated. "I have a feeling that if the press finds out that I'm hanging around both of them, they're going to make team T-shirts and plant photographers on the front lawn."

"A fate that Rachel Berry would kill for," Mercedes remarked dryly. "But seriously. They're not going to do that. I promise to keep quiet."

Kurt smirked at the response Blaine sent him. Without looking up, he stated, "Thank you."

"Although," Mercedes said as an afterthought, "if those boys were straight and interested in me, _I_ would send the press team T-shirts!"

* * *

_A coffee shop designed artfully with striking pillars, abstract artwork, and dark wooden tables was the setting of Kurt and Blaine's first date. Kurt sat across from him, sprinkling cinnamon on top of the whipped cream in his cup. Blaine took a sip of his medium drip, closing his eyes as it warmed him from the inside out._

_ The date was going swimmingly; Kurt had greeted him with a kiss on the cheek, while Blaine had already ordered what he had guessed would be Kurt's favorite drink. It was a risky decision, but to Blaine's luck Kurt did love mocha._

_ "I still can't believe it," Kurt said quietly, directed mostly to his cardboard cup._

_ "You can't believe what?" asked Blaine._

_ Startled, Kurt babbled, "I just . . . I never thought I'd be on a date with _the _Blaine Anderson. Yet here I am, and it's going well, and he knows my coffee order, and-"_

_ "'_He_' is just as happy as you are," finished Blaine proudly. "I know I don't have much time left before I have to continue the tour, but I want to spend all of it with you."_

_ The corners of Kurt's lips curled up. Before Blaine could tease him about the tiny smile, someone slid into the chair next to Kurt and pecked him on the cheek._

_ "Hey, Number One With A Cool Watch," teased the newcomer. "We should be heading out soon."_

_ "Heading out?" Blaine's jaw dropped. "What?"_

_ Kurt smirked. "Didn't you hear? 'Bastian and I are dating."_

_ "What?" Blaine repeated. It was not the "what" that meant "what did you say". It was the "what" that meant "I can't believe what you just said"._

_ Sebastian laughed. "You're so naive. You _actually_ thought that Kurt would be interested in _you_. Don't you know he likes _talented _people?"_

_ Kurt tilted his head towards Sebastian. In devastating slow motion, their heads moved closer together, their lips barely brushing-_

Sebastian's eyes flew open. The glowing red numbers on the alarm clock on the bedside table winked at him. He'd only been asleep for three hours, although it felt like a few minutes.

_Well, that escalated quickly_, Sebastian considered.

He sat up and ran his fingers through his hair. Sebastian thought, _What a peculiar dream_. _I'd never had somebody else star in my dreams. It had always been me._

He flung open his room door and headed to the small kitchen area. After he'd gulped down a glass of water, he chewed on the inside of his cheek, furrowing his brows.

_But more importantly_, Sebastian thought, _what did that dream mean?_

* * *

**A/N**: What do you guys think? Was it wrong for Blaine to have crashed Sebastian and Kurt's "date"? Is he just being too hard on himself? And what do you think that dream means?


	11. 11: Be Our Guest

Chapter Eleven

Be Our Guest

Blaine was an hour too early. The Lima Bean coffee shop scarcely had any patrons, and the few who were there were having quiet discussions over steaming cups. Blaine sat alone in a corner booth, observing silently with his lips pursed.

He'd loved going to the Lima Bean back when he was living with his parents. On the days that he knew he could sneak out of his private school, he would order a drink or two and sit in his favorite booth and just _listen_. He didn't have to be with anyone else. Just sitting in the booth and watching the world around him fascinated him to no end.

There were so many unforgettable moments. He'd once seen two young girls in red-and-white cheer-leading uniforms come into the Lima Bean and order drinks, giggling in between sips. It was fairly easy to tell that they were attracted to each other.

Another fond memory was of a young boy and his father. They were sitting in the booth beside his. The little boy noticed that Blaine was alone and proceeded to have a conversation with him about Power Rangers and robots, and the father contributed as best as he could. Later, while the little boy went to the bathroom, the father thanked him. It turned out that the boy usually never spoke, but Blaine's presence made him comfortable enough to instigate a conversation. The father and son left happily soon afterward, and Blaine - for the umpteenth time since he had come out - wished that he had a father like that.

Now, Blaine observed the shop again, admiring the pillars that seemed to strike down from the ceiling in odd places, the artwork that nobody ever seemed to understand, and the dark finished tables that were probably just stained from spilled coffee. He was older now, and much more easily recognized, so he donned a dark green beanie and his old Dalton Academy scarf and ducked his head low as he drank his medium drip.

Three giggly schoolgirls walked in, ordered lattes, and sat down to gossip at a table just a little ways away from Blaine. They seemed to take no notice to Blaine, even though he had turned his head slightly to their direction.

After a few minutes of drabble over the captain of the football team's abs, an interesting topic popped up.

"Did you hear about Kurt Hummel?" the blonde of the group asked, twirling a stirring stick in her cup absentmindedly.

The brunette of the group rolled her eyes. "Everybody's heard about it."

"Like, I'd be surprised if you _didn't_, Mallory," the redhead said after a long sip of her drink.

Mallory rolled her eyes. "I heard that he met Sebastian Smythe yesterday and fainted at the Lima Freeze."

"I heard more," added the redhead. "My friend Georgina's friend Jennifer said that her friend Yasmin saw Kurt at the old cinema last night."

"So?" the brunette scoffed.

"So . . ." The redhead paused for dramatic effect. "Apparently Sebastian Smythe was there, too."

Mallory's jaw dropped. "Sebastian Smythe was still here and I missed it?"

"No way," breathed the brunette. "I can't believe it."

"_Annnnnd_," the redhead added, "Kurt was on a date with Blaine Anderson."

There was a terrible pause as this information sunk in. Then the girls collectively shrieked happily and grabbed each other.

"That is _sooooooo_ cute," gushed the brunette.

"I know Kurt," the redhead insisted, "and Blaine's perfect for him. Kurt's had a crush on Blaine for, like, _ever_."

Blaine found himself smiling widely. He'd had his suspicions, but now that he knew that his crush on Blaine was so large that such gossipy girls knew about it _and_ spoke of it in such public areas...

But the pang in his heart made his smile freeze in place. He _had_ still intruded on Kurt's date with Sebastian. No matter how Kurt supposedly liked him, it didn't matter, because he had to tell him the truth.

_How would that go?_ he wondered. _Look Kurt straight in the eye and tell him that I lied to him because I was jealous that Smythe was wooing him and not me? He'd hate me._

While he was lost in thought, a new person entered the Lima Bean. After ordering their usual drink, they turned to scan the room for an available seat and spotted Blaine. Smiling warmly, he strode up and slid into the seat opposite him.

"Hello, Anderson," the new person greeted, running his hand through their dark brown hair.

Blaine snapped out of his thoughts. His expression, which had previously been of dismay and worry, changed into shock.

"B-Brett?" he choked out.

* * *

Kurt was running late.

Cheerios practice had been nothing but pure hell for him, as Coach Sylvester had him doing flips and kicks that would have discouraged even Brittany Pierce. Even worse, he had to do it all while singing a remix of Cobra Starship songs. He could still hear her yell, "Suck in, Porcelain!" even as he showered and dressed for his coffee date with Blaine.

Blaine.

Kurt resisted the urge to let out a dreamy sigh. It was so dream-like, though; meeting Blaine Anderson, hanging out with Blaine Anderson . . . He couldn't stress enough how amazing his life was. The girls in the locker room didn't help either, as they wanted to hear all about the concert over and over again.

"Did he _really_ dedicate 'Teenage Dream' to you?" Santana asked, more out of jealousy than skepticism.

Kurt smirked. "He pointed right at me, spoke about my shirt, and then dedicated it to me. What do you think?"

Santana could barely hide her envy.

By the time Kurt left, it was a quarter to four. The Lima Bean was a half-hour walk away, as Finn and Burt were using the cars. He didn't want Blaine to think that he was being stood up, so he sent him a quick text.

Kurt Hummel:

I'm running late. I'll be there by 4:15, promise!

He didn't get a reply. Kurt knew that because he held his phone tightly in his hand, and it never beeped or vibrated or indicated an incoming text message.

Kurt quickened his pace. _The second time I get to hang out with Blaine Anderson, and I'm late_, he thought worriedly.

* * *

Brett smirked. "Didn't expect to see me, eh, Blainers? It's such a shame that you didn't attend my family's brunch yesterday. We had all of your favorites made just for you."

Blaine leaned back in his chair, shaking his head slightly. "I can't believe it," he said. "After everything that had happened between us, after _everything_ you did to me at Dalton, you still feel like it's all right to invite my family to brunch and show up at my concert." He shook his head. "You weren't even supposed to be in the VIP meet and greet," he added disapprovingly.

"Actually, I was." Brett grinned. "My friend bought the tenth ticket, but I went in his place. I kept away from you, so no harm done, right?"

Blaine gritted his teeth together. "Doesn't change the fact that you almost ruined my night by being there." He glared at his coffee cup, as if it was to blame for Brett's presence.

Brett, unperturbed, remarked, "Who was that guy you were flirting with, Blainers?"

"Don't call me that," Blaine snapped. "And I was not flirting."

Brett snorted. "Please. I know what you look and act like when you're flirting. Touchy-feely, giggly, smiling so big your eyes are almost closed because of your enormous cheeks-"

Blaine cut him off. "Look, I'm supposed to be meeting someone. Could we do this another time? Like after my next tour with Sebastian Smythe?"

Meaning: _never_.

Brett stood up, taking his coffee cup with him. "I see how it is, _Blainers_. You're ashamed of your past. You know what?" Brett leaned uncomfortably close to Blaine, their noses nearly brushing. "You should be," he whispered menacingly.

And with that, Brett Avila strode off.

* * *

Sebastian was in his natural element. Of course, his natural element consisted of gyrating girls and boys, bass-dropping music, strobe lights, and never-ending alcoholic beverages. Ah, yes, being a celebrity had its advantages.

Four Hundred, the nightclub that stated to "always be lively", was Sebastian's new sanctuary. There, he didn't have to worry about stupid date-ruining gay celebrities or porcelain-skinned gay boys with a fascination for children's films. At Four Hundred, there were men _and_ women giving him the eye - and paying for most of his drinks.

A pretty blonde woman walked up to Sebastian with a big red-lipped smile on her face. "Hey there. You're that guy from YouTube, aren't you?"

"Yes," Sebastian said. There was no point in lying there; the patrons already knew who he was and the few who didn't were being taken up to speed by the others.

The woman giggled. "You're hot."

"And I'm eighteen," he reminds the woman, tipping his nearly empty glass ever so slightly towards her.

She shrugged. "You're legal."

Fifteen minutes later, he found himself in a mens bathroom stall with the lady. From what he learned in her quick introduction as they took off each others' clothes, her name was Natalie, she was twenty-one and aspired to become an actress, was married to a cheating man named Blake, frequented Four Hundred both day and night, and loved Sebastian's music.

He could still hear the music. The floor was practically vibrating to the beat. Sebastian closed his eyes and ignored what he was doing, _who_ he was doing, and just floated.

The thoughts he'd kept at bay now swarmed his mind.

_Had I been too harsh on Anderson? Was Kurt even worth all of this drama? He certainly acted as though he liked Blaine more. Maybe he'd only accepted because he thought that Blaine would come along, and he hadn't wanted it as a date. Maybe it was all a big understanding between all three of us._

He slammed back to reality. Natalie was leaning against him, breathing heavily. He was somehow holding her up against the wall, her legs wrapped around his waist. He felt nothing, but panted along with her. How much time had passed? It felt like less than a minute, but he couldn't be sure.

"You know," Natalie gasped, grabbing onto his shoulders for support, "you're different than the rest of the men."

"How so?"

Natalie smirked and lowered her feet to the ground. "They pay attention," she responded slyly. "Not zone out."

Ten minutes after she'd left to scan the masses for new prey, Sebastian was still standing in the stall, half-dressed.

_He's going down_, Sebastian thought. _The boy is mine_.

* * *

Kurt arrived at the Lima Bean breathless. If he lifted his shirt up to expose his stomach, there had better be a set of abs there from the exercise he'd gotten from rushing to the coffee shop. After buying his drink promptly, he spotted Blaine and headed over.

Blaine's head shot up when he came within a ten-foot radius. "You made it," Blaine said, relieved. "I just saw your text."

Kurt smiled shyly. "Good. How are you?"

Blaine's smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm fine," he responded. "I bought myself a new cup of coffee."

"Oh, how long were you waiting?" Kurt asked worriedly.

Blaine lied. "Not too long. My coffee went cold quickly is all."

A silence. Blaine hated those silences. He wished for any good topic to fly into his mind. Before he could speak about the first subject he had in mind - sloths - Kurt spoke.

"About last night," Kurt said slowly. "I'm sorry if my family made you feel uncomfortable."

"No, no," Blaine said quickly. "Your family's amazing. I'd love to meet them again. In fact, I'd love for your father to tell me all about your adventures as a cheerleader." He winked as Kurt reddened.

Kurt smiled, feeling his warmed cheeks sheepishly. "In that case, I'm not inviting you to dinner tonight," he stated firmly.

Blaine's playful expression turned to one of shock. "Dinner with your family?"

Kurt's eyes widened. He began rambling. "I mean, if that's okay with you. My step-mom and I are making salad and - and lasagna and dessert and I thought that if you wanted to come and it was okay with you then you _could_ come-"

"I would love to," Blaine said, cutting off Kurt.

Kurt smiled broadly. "You would?"

"It would be my pleasure." Blaine took a sip of his new medium drip. "Your family's nice, Kurt. You're really very lucky to call them yours."

Kurt said nothing, but one eyebrow rose questioningly.

* * *

"I think we have plenty of food for tonight," Carole said soothingly to a panicked Kurt. They were standing in the Hummel-Hudson kitchen, observing the cooking lasagna as they chopped up the ingredients for Carole's delicious signature Caesar salad. Kurt was expressing his panic as he grated the cheese, narrowly missing one of his fingertips on the metal holes. "Be careful, Kurt."

Kurt grimaced at his fingertip. "Only a scratch, Carole." He turned around and opened the refrigerator door. "What if he doesn't like pecan pie? Or pecans? Or pie?"

Carole could barely stop herself from laughing as she watched her stepson fret by the fridge. Blaine was due to arrive in twenty minutes, plenty of time for Kurt to have a food-related meltdown.

She allowed, "I'm sure he likes pie. Now sprinkle that grated cheese on top, and we're all set for dinner."

Kurt finished making the salad, but he still worried. "What if he's a vegan and doesn't like the salad? What if he's allergic to an ingredient in the lasagna and has to be hospitalized and misses the rest of his tour? What if-"

"Kurt," Carole said firmly. "Calm down. Everything's going to be fine."

Just then, the doorbell rang, and Kurt threw his hands up towards the ceiling in exasperation.

"He's _early_!" he fretted as he headed towards the front door. "Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no."

Blaine stood on the other side of the door, dressed casually in a blue plaid collared shirt and black jeans. A red bow tie and shiny black shoes completed his look. In his hands, he held a white box. A drawing of a muffin smiling upwards at the logo, BETHANY'S BAKERY, was stamped on the top.

"Hello, Kurt," he greeted happily. "I hope you don't mind, but I brought extra dessert. Red velvet cupcakes, to be exact."

Finn, who had some built-in radar that detected delicious food in the vicinity, appeared beside Kurt. "I can take that for you," he offered, grinning wolfishly.

Kurt handed him the box, warning him, "Not until after dinner."

Finn popped up the lid and gasped. "I want to eat every single one," he said, before catching Kurt's eye and adding, "but I won't try to until after dinner."

Kurt escorted Blaine to the dining room, where Burt and Rachel were. They were already sitting at the table, chatting about the latest assignment in glee club. Rachel, of course, had gotten the female solo.

"Hello," Blaine greeted Burt and Rachel shyly.

Rachel stared at him, mouth agape. "It's really you?"

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Did you ever doubt that I would tell you the truth?" He had to. Finn had invited her for dinner that night, so he had to inform her of their guest. She was disbelieving, but went along with it anyway.

Rachel sprang up from her chair to shake Blaine's hand. "My name is Rachel Berry. I'm aspiring to be a Broadway performer, or the next Barbra Streisand, whichever comes first."

Blaine smiled. "I'm Blaine. I bet you think I can help you with that. Unfortunately, my brother Cooper's the one with the Broadway connections."

Rachel's smile didn't falter. "I know."

"Uh, okay then." Blaine released Rachel's hand and sat down. Kurt sat promptly next to him, before Rachel could badger him with questions. Rachel grudgingly sat down at her old spot, but continued to smile widely at their celebrity guest. Finn came back from putting the cupcakes in the kitchen and sat down next to her.

"Don't I feel like Rachael Ray," Carole laughed as she carried the bowl of Caesar salad to the table.

"This looks delicious, Mrs. Hummel," Blaine said politely, reaching for the salad tongs first.

"Call me Carole," she replied as she ducked into the kitchen for the lasagna.

* * *

After eating a bowlful of salad and two slices of lasagna, Blaine cracked open the box of red velvet cupcakes to distribute. "They're vegan," he reassured Rachel, who had never stopped talking about herself during the dinner conversation.

Along with the cupcakes came the pecan pie. Blaine admitted that he loved pecan pie, and would alway request it for dessert when he was little. Kurt laughed at the story, but was relieved that he hadn't made a strawberry cheesecake like he'd planned earlier.

"So . . . good . . ." Finn mumbled between bites. He alternated between a bite of pie and a bite of cupcake, which made both his girlfriend and Blaine grimace in thinly veiled disgust.

When the night drew to a close, and Kurt had attempted valiantly to stop Burt and Carole from telling embarrassing stories about him while Finn devoured the dessert, Blaine waited for a taxi out front with Kurt.

"I had a really nice time," Blaine told Kurt. "Especially when I heard about the cheer-leading. I was waiting for that."

Kurt nudged him. "Hey, they really appreciated you coming."

Blaine stared at the driveway for a second before speaking again. "I don't have that much time left in Ohio," he said, sounding sad. "I didn't realize how much I missed being here, having a normal life."

"I want to leave here," Kurt admitted, following Blaine's gaze to the concrete. "I mean, I love my family and all, but I don't think that I want to be here forever. I want to be a star. I want to teach people all over the world that it's okay to be like me; to aspire to be different, to be gay."

Kurt averted his gaze to look at the sky. Stars twinkled from high above, as if they were winking at him. He was never good at astronomy, so he didn't know if the stars were forming anything important like Orion's belt or the Milky Way or-

A pair of soft, warm lips pressed gently against his, and he paused in his musing, his eyes sliding shut. He felt content, elated, _warm_, as he stood on his front steps barefooted. Warm arms wrapped around his waist as the kiss deepened, as a hand buried into Kurt's perfect hair and ruined its shape . . .

And just like that, it was all gone. The warmth, the tingling that Kurt felt on the tips of his toes, the feeling of the arms around him. His hair was messed up, _that_ he knew for sure.

Blaine grinned at him from where he stood, barely a foot away from Kurt. The taxi he'd been waiting for was waiting at the curb, the high beams lighting up the street.

"Good night, Kurt," he whispered before turning away.

Kurt watched as Blaine entered the taxi. He remained rooted to the floor as it sped away, its lights disappearing from view. Then he sighed heavily - not of distraught or distaste - and headed back inside.

His cell phone displayed a new message.

Blaine Anderson:

I'm sorry if I was too forward, but I had to do it at least once.

* * *

**A/N: **What do you think? Will Sebastian put up a fight? Was the kiss too forward? Should Kurt go on a date with Sebastian just to see if there is anything there? Let me know!


	12. 12: Hooks of Damocles

Chapter Twelve

Hooks of Damocles

Kurt Hummel was a new man. He walked the halls of McKinley High with purpose. For a Tuesday, it was relatively bereft of gossipy girls or tough-looking jocks. The crackdown of caffeine in the school's cafeteria has taken its toll on the worst of the school. Yet for Kurt, who always relied on fruit smoothies for his energy, he walked on with grace and dignity.

And with Rachel Berry nipping at his heels for details.

"You _kissed _him?" she gasped, attracting the attention of a few Cheerios as they passed by. "Oh my God, Kurt, you're practically a celebrity already."

"Just because he kissed me doesn't mean that I'm a celebrity," Kurt said as he adjusted the strap of his bag.

"Then what does it mean?"

Kurt paused in his step, his confidence dissipating. "I . . . I don't know," he admitted, faltering.

Rachel grabbed his arm and tried to steer him back to the main subject. "Forget about that. You told me that both Smythe _and_ Anderson expressed interest in you, which means that Sebastian is officially off of my list."

"O . . . kay? And since when do you have a list of people you'd like to-"

Rachel cut him off. "That's not the point here, Kurt!" she exclaimed. "The point is, you're torn between two lovers who just so happen to be household names. I mean, everybody in Ohio knows of these two, and I'm pretty sure Blaine was lying last night when he said that he didn't have any Broadway connections."

Kurt's lips twitched. "Perhaps he was," he allowed quietly. "Either way, that's not the point. The point is, I got kissed last night by the guy that I've been fanboying over for ages, and now he won't stop texting me." He held out his iPhone, which displayed an alert for ten unread messages. "They all say something either really cutesy or really funny, and I have no idea how to respond."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "You need to be more upfront about this. You need to tell him how you feel. You need to meet him again and get Kiss Number Two."

Kurt's cheeks reddened. "Who said there'd be a Kiss Number Two?"

"There's _always _a Kiss Number Two during slash after that kind of conversation," Rachel informed him. "It's unavoidable. He likes you and you like him and I just _knew_ that something had happened from the way that you looked when you came back in."

Kurt tilted his head. "How did you know?"

"Your hair was messed up at the back," Rachel admitted smugly. "You would never let anyone do that unless you were in no position to complain about it."

Kurt's lips twitched. "True . . ."

Rachel smiled widely. "So . . ."

With a roll of his eyes, Kurt relented. "Fine. I'll make sure to meet him before he leaves for the next leg of his tour."

She held up a pinky. "Promise?" she queried, looking at him with as much seriousness as Rachel Berry could muster.

Kurt wrapped his pinky around hers. "Promise."

They pulled apart and waggled their fingers at each other before walking to their respective classes.

* * *

Blaine was standing on center stage, soaking in the spotlight as Pierce Brogan critiqued him from a particularly stiff chair in the orchestra pit.

"Breathy," he reminded him, "be more breathy! They eat that shit up, Anderson."

But Blaine was barely paying attention to Pierce's profanity-filled instructions. He was reliving, over and over in an endless loop, the kiss that had struck such a deep chord within him. He had been the one to instigate it, and boy, was he elated that he had.

It was the perfect moment as well. Kurt's everchanging eyes were focused on the stars above them, his brow furrowed as evidence of internal musing, after he'd explained that he wanted to advocate the belief - no, the truth - that being gay was okay.

Also, Blaine couldn't control himself. Kurt was as charming and breathtakingly handsome similar to an old movie star that Blaine idolized profusely.

"Blaine. BLAINE!"

Blaine started. "What?"

Pierce pressed a palm to the side of his face, looking exasperated. "Be more breathy in 'Tumult', all right? Don't want to get the audience bored."

"Too late," Sebastian Smythe muttered from his place beside Pierce. He had snatched the bag of VIP lanyards for their next show and was discreetly checking for any names that could appeal to him. Amber Brosnane. Hmm . . .

Blaine stepped off stage and Sebastian took his place. As soon as the beginning notes of 'Mambo Man' played, Blaine's phone beeped.

Kurt Hummel:

Could we talk soon? It's nothing bad, I promise :)

Blaine smiled and replied.

Blaine Anderson:

How about sushi? I know a great place near the old cinema called Fishtastic. Terrible name, but good food.

Kurt Hummel:

Absolutely. Meet you there at six?

Blaine Anderson:

Can't wait :D

* * *

Fishtastic was, as one could expect, a fish-themed restaurant. The exterior was painted with shiny greyish green paint in intricate circles that resembled fish scales, while the inner walls were the color of sea foam with funny-looking cartoonish salmon and trout swimming around unperturbed. The menus had interesting facts about fish in them, and the tables were dark rectangles of wood with colorful fish painted on them.

Kurt never wanted to see another fish again.

He tried, to no avail, to look at something in Fishtastic that didn't remind him of aquatic animals. After deciding that the ceiling (decorated like how a lake full of sockeye salmon would look with real hooks hanging from the ceiling that could result in peril if descending quickly enough) was not a good option, he decided to focus his attention on the table of teenage boys sitting near the window (which was tinted the same blue as the walls). They were deep in conversation, voices too low to be overheard. Kurt wished he knew what the one in the green sweater was saying. He seemed to look pretty smug.

"Ready to order?" asked the chipper teenage girl with a smile too big for her face. She held a notebook in her hands and seemed genuinely interested in writing down his order.

Good actress, Kurt decided. Terribly forced smile, though.

"No thanks," he said, looking sheepish. "I'm going to meet someone, and they should be here soon."

Actually, Blaine should have been there fifteen minutes before. Perhaps this was revenge for the Lima Bean incident. If so, it was a terrible thing for Blaine to do. And completely out of character.

The fish-shaped door swung open and Blaine stepped through, dressed casually in a hoodie two sizes too big and a hat that covered a majority of his distinctly recognizable 'do. For a second, Kurt wondered why he was wearing things that were hiding him from view. Blaine was quite a view.

Then he remembered.

Right. Celebrity. _Biiiiiig _celebrity.

As if to mock Kurt's stupidity, the soft guitar introduction to One Rose began playing overhead. Somewhere among the hooks was a sound system. Then, as an added bonus to the situation at hand, one of the teenage boys at the window table spotted Blaine and grinned.

Suddenly those hooks felt like swords - of the Damocles variety.

It never occurred to him what would happen if people recognized Blaine at a public place. The Cheerios were already gushing over Kurt's supposed torrid love affair (and he'll have to bother Miss Mercedes Jones and Miss Quinn Fabray about _that_ being spread around) and had already collectively vowed to get him to sign their chests _when _(not if; the girls didn't take "if") they got to meet "Kurt's hottie celeb boy toy". Because according to Sugar Motta, "since Blaine's gay, it doesn't matter".

Right. It wouldn't matter to Blaine as much as it would matter to those girls' respective "boy toys".

Blaine was heading towards Kurt when the boy in the green sweater called out, "Anderson!"

Blaine froze in his track. Kurt held his breath.

Unaware of the change, the boy added, "What? No greeting in return?"

Blaine continued, at a much slower pace, towards Kurt. As soon as he sat down, Kurt asked, "Who is that?"

Blaine's lips twitched downward. "A family friend who needs to keep their trap shut."

From the window, the green sweater boy screeched, "Blaine Anderson! You come and say hello right now!"

The waitress, who was hovering around the front counter, gasped audibly. "Blaine Anderson?" She tilted her head as she scrutinized the strangely dressed boy that had joined Kurt, copying and pasting the Blaine Anderson hair over the ridiculous hat and imagining a slimmer body than the one portrayed by the baggy sweatshirt.

When she was satisfied with her observation, she pulled out her phone and pressed a few buttons. Then she squealed into it, "You'll never guess who's in Fishtastic right now. _Blaine Anderson!_ Oh . . ."

"No," Kurt moaned.


	13. 13: Calm Facades

Chapter Thirteen

Calm Facades

Utter pandemonium ensued in a fish-themed restaurant, all thanks to a bored waitress named Bridget Thorpe.

Bridget hadn't meant to endanger Blaine Anderson's life. In fact, the thought never crossed her mind until the crowd forced itself into the restaurant she earned minimum wage at. She had called up her friend Melanie for bragging once she'd confirmed with her own eyes that the celebrity was in her workplace. How was she supposed to know that Melanie, her on and off BFF who craved drama infinitesimally more than the average teenage girl, was currently on her off stage and hadn't bothered to tell her? And she hadn't anticipated that Melanie would go on and tell nearly everybody she knew in Ohio to go to Fishtastic for a "celebrity meet and greet" because Blaine Anderson was apparently Melanie's new best friend.

Bridget watched, in horror as the shrieks and chants continued on in the tiny restaurant. The table that Blaine and his familiar-looking friend were sitting at was now practically being held up in favor of grabbing at the star.

"Please don't touch my friend here," she heard Blaine plead from where he was being harrassed.

"Who is he?" screeched one of the more intense fans, snatching Blaine's hood with great force. "Oh my God, is he your boyfriend?"

"Unhand me," Blaine said in response, throwing his calm facade to the wind. "Please don't touch us."

"WHO IS HE?" growled the fan again, tugging so hard at the hood that it partially tore away from the rest of the hoodie. "I DEMAND ANSWERS."

"Please leave us alone!" Blaine demanded.

Bridget ducked under the counter and pulled out her cell phone. Mere minutes ago, she had used it to call that backstabber to report. Now she was calling the police.

* * *

Kurt was not enjoying the new found fame he was gaining from being Blaine's friend. Especially because fangirls were tugging at his once perfectly coiffed hair and demanding answers to intrusive questions.

Kurt didn't even know if he was Blaine's boyfriend. How was he supposed to answer questions about the matter if even he was unsure?

The boy in the green sweater slipped through the throng of chanting teenage girls and, more sparingly, boys, and held out a hand for Kurt to grab.

"Better to get you out first," he shouted over the shrieks, "since you're collateral damage and all."

Kurt reluctantly took his hand, and the boy began to pull him forcibly through the crowd. A few more girls tried to grab at him, but the boy in the green sweater glared at them and pushed through until they were just outside of the restaurant.

"I'm going back in for Blaine," said the admittedly handsome boy. "Stay here, okay? Don't let any crazed fans in."

"Who are you?" Kurt demanded to know. He also wanted to know why the guy would think that Kurt would be able to stop Blaine's crazed fans at the door, but he didn't bothered to voice the notion.

The boy paused, his hand on the doorknob. "I'm a friend of Blaine's," he said, and he slipped into the restaurant again.

* * *

Dalton Academy, centered in Westerville, Ohio, took pride in its calm facade. To an outsider, the school was a place of sanctuary, chock-full of calm and behaving students. The classy architecture of the school seemed to be reflected within the student body, as they all spoke to newcomers and visitors with an air of proper manners and wealth. Even the teachers were easily fooled by the boys' acting.

But beyond the classrooms, furnished with the finest mahogany desks and chairs a mere step down from thrones, was a secret that the Dalton Academy students, especially the Warblers, were intent on keeping.

That secret was of the true insanity.

A teenage boy has to let loose at least once, you know. These boys just preferred to let loose quite frequently.

As soon as the hall monitor finished his patrolling at half past nine, the doors in the dormitories would fling open, and teenage boys dressed in either their school uniforms or the unofficial Dalton uniform of Brooks Brothers and Banana Republic would head down to the common room for festivities that usually involved beer, video games, and the occasional break-in to the all girls' school blocks away.

These festivities, although fun in the moment, left the boys hungover and regretful in the morning. By the afternoon, most of the soreness and bad attitude were gone, nursed by litres of water and ibuprofen.

When Brett Avila called in on the afternoon of the Fishtastic frenzy, Alexander Preston asked wearily, "Why now, Avila? We're all tired."

"Another hot night at the prep school?" drawled Brett loudly, the buzz and chanting in the background amplified into the phone to be as loud as a rock concert. "It's a shame I missed it. Now listen closely. I'm bringing Blaine Anderson to Dalton."

Alexander nearly dropped his phone. "It's been ages," he mused. "How is Blainers?"

"Oh, don't tell me you adopted that nickname for him from Cooper, too!" Brett sounded exasperated and, for some reason, out of breath.

"It's pretty easy to take up."

Alexander eyed the rest of the academy's choir, sprawled over different couches in the common room. They all looked in dire need of a nap, but the situation was of the utmost importance. A former Warbler was coming back. More specifically, a former Warbler that had made it big.

After Brett had hung up, Alexander lightly poked the nearest Warbler. Nick sat up, hair bedraggled, and scowled at the person who had ended his nap by pressing his finger into his side.

"Blaine's coming soon," Alexander said before Nick could complain. "We'd better get ready."

"Absolutely," Nick agreed quickly, and helped to wake up the other Warblers. "Guys, wake up! Blaine is coming back!"

* * *

Brett ignored the table of prospects waiting for him by the window as he dashed out of the fish-themed restaurant with Blaine. He was out of breath, having to make the phone call to his advisor and most loyal friend Alexander while in the melee.

"Kurt," Blaine said worriedly when he spotted his (boyfriend? Date? Friend with extreme benefits?) _unconfirmed significant other_ by the door. "I didn't know if we were going to get out of there!"

"No time for tearful reunions," Brett said quickly. "Not yet, at least. That mob'll be out any minute now, this time readily armed with phones and sushi rolls. My car's parked just over here. I can give you a ride if you don't mind me visiting Dalton quickly."

"Dalton?" For a minute, the terrible event that had just occurred had been forgotten and Blaine's expression brightened at the mention of his old school. "Wow. I - I wouldn't mind." He glanced at Kurt. "Would you mind?"

Kurt shook his head, not taking his eyes off of Blaine. "I'm fine with that."

Brett smiled, although his teeth were clenched. He hadn't planned on Pale Face coming with them . . .

Whatever. It's not as if Pale Face is going to ruin the day. With any luck, he'll be leaving Blaine and him before the day is through, preferably in tears.

How he will induce tears on him, though, is the problem.


End file.
